


A Night to Remember

by AWorldWithoutShrimp



Category: Durarara!!, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Light-Hearted, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWorldWithoutShrimp/pseuds/AWorldWithoutShrimp
Summary: The Phantom Thieves come to Ikebukuro to take Izaya Orihara’s heart, and Chie, Rise, and Yosuke are swept up in their wake. Can even Persona-users overcome the monsters of Ikebukuro?





	1. Prologue - Chatroom

\- - - Taro Tanaka has joined the chat - - -   
\- - - Setton has joined the chat - - -   
\- - - Kanra has joined the chat - - - 

[Taro Tanaka]: Have you guys heard of the Phantom Thieves?  
[Kanra]: You’re joking, right? Who hasn’t heard of the Phantom Thieves? The whole country’s talking about them.  
[Setton]: The Phantom Thieves?  
[Kanra]: almost the whole country, lol  
[Taro Tanaka]: They seem kinda like the Dollars, don’t they? I mean, with the anonymity. And they’ve got a website too!  
[Kanra]: I’ll bet they’re a more exclusive club than the Dollars. You’re not likely to walk by one of them on the street anytime soon.   
[Setton]: Who are the Phantom Thieves?  
[Taro Tanaka]: You really haven’t heard?  
[Kanra]: I’ll message you, Setton. You need to get caught up.  
[Setton]: Hackers? Calling cards? Phan-Site? This is crazy!  
[Kanra]: No crazier than Ikebukuro. We’ve got our very own Headless Rider, after all!  
[Taro Tanaka]: Do you think the Phantom Thieves will come to Ikebukuro?  
[Kanra]: Planning to change someone’s heart? There are better ways to get a girl, you know.  
[Taro Tanaka]: Hey! It’s not like that. I just think it’d be cool for them to visit Ikebukuro. That’s all!  
[Kanra]: Suuure, Taro. Anyways, who can say? Maybe you’ll see them sooner than you think.


	2. Ryuji's Story

Ryuji glared at the skeezy-looking young salaryman in the ill-fitting suit staring at the girls.

“Eyes to yourself, jackass!” he yelled. The salaryman rolled his eyes and looked away, running a hand through his sweat-slicked mop of unruly brown hair as he turned back to the sushi bar.

Ryuji shook his head. “What a freakin’ perv,” he said with a scowl.

Ann smacked him on the arm. “Don’t make a scene!” she hissed. “God, Ryuji. You’re gonna get us thrown out!”

Ryuji rubbed his arm. “What the hell?” he said. “Dude was bein’ a total sleazebag! You want me to let him get away with it?”

“If that’s what it takes to eat in peace,” Makoto said. “I wouldn’t like to cross the proprietors of this place.”

Yusuke nodded sagely.

“They display a most remarkable poise,” he said. “An unprepossessing exterior, yet beneath, there roils the aura of a killer.” His eyes closed in a beatific smile. “How lovely.”

“You’re _so_ weird, Inari,” Futaba murmured through a mouthful of sushi. Her chopsticks stabbed at more rolls with the speed of an assassin’s dagger. “Speaking of weird, this place is the weirdest best sushi restaurant ever.”

Ryuji looked imploringly to Ren for support. He shrugged, an expression Ryuji had come to understand as _Sorry dude, you’re on your own_ , and returned to his sushi.

“This place is kinda nuts,” Ryuji said. The Phantom Thieves sat clustered around a table piled high with platters of sushi of every description. On three sides, snow-white faux marble covered the walls in a credible impression of Tsar Nicholas’s Winter Palace. Dark-blue columns curved from the walls at regular intervals. The room’s doorway opened into the main floor of the restaurant, which bustled with customers. Behind the counter, the owner of Russia Sushi swung a knife with inhuman speed and cold focus. Ryuji scowled at the back of the young salaryman sitting at the counter. As he returned his attention to the sushi platter in front of him, a sudden prickle of anticipation washed over him. He shook out his shoulders to ease it off.

“Man, I am fired up!” he said. “This Palace is nuts. What the hell’s with all those weird game pieces, anyways?”

“Hey, not so loud!” Futaba said between mouthfuls. “Betcha some cops eat here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji said. “It’s cool, this place is super packed. Nobody’s gonna hear a thing.”

“I do have to agree with Ryuji,” Makoto said. “The Palace is quite remarkable. Our target must be a very troubled individual.”

A fluffy head poked up from Ren’s bag.

“He’s definitely demented,” Morgana said. “This guy is on a completely different level from Kaneshiro or Madarame. He’ll be a very formidable opponent.”

“His sense of aesthetics is to be commended,” Yusuke said, “if not his predilection toward egomania.”

“I am so not looking forward to fighting his Shadow,” Ann said. “I guess there’s, like, zero chance that we’ll be able to grab the Treasure and sneak out.”

“Man, when has that ever worked?” Ryuji said. “We’re gonna hafta kick his ass.”

“Ryuji’s right,” their leader said. “We’ll have to fight our way out of this one, just like the others.”

Around the table, heads nodded. Ryuji smiled fiercely in appreciation. The Phantom Thieves would put another asshole in their place.

Futaba’s glasses gleamed in the light of her phone as her thumbs flew over its screen.

“I was always suspicious of the crazy stuff about Ikebukuro people posted online, but after seeing the guys running this place, I’m starting to believe it,” she said. “I wanna meet the guy who can throw vending machines!”

“Throw vending machines?” Ryuji said, awestruck. “For real?”

Futaba nodded. “Better not make him mad if we meet him!” she said with a malevolent cackle.

“We’re _so_ gonna die,” Ann said.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything yet!” Ryuji said. As usual, his protests fell on deaf ears.

Makoto considered Futaba’s words with her usual unflappable composure.

“I’m not so sure I believe the rumors,” she said. “Even after seeing the Metaverse, a normal human being that strong still sounds impossible.”

“It’s too bad he’s not a Persona user,” Morgana said between bites of tuna. “Somebody that strong would be a big asset to our team.”

“Uh, I don’t know about that, Morgana,” Ann said. “He sounds seriously scary.”

“If he can throw a vending machine, think of how far he can throw a person,” their leader commented, his eyes betraying no hint of whether he was joking.

Ryuji’s eyes widened.

“Dude, don’t say stuff like that!” he said, fighting back a stammer. Ren calmly returned to eating his sushi. Ryuji figured he was probably just messing with them, but man, Ren had a good poker face.

“Such a man would make a most remarkable subject,” Yusuke said. “Perhaps I shall seek him out.”

“If you stalk him like you did me, you’ll probably die,” Ann said. “Let this one go, okay?”

“Very well,” Yusuke said. “But I make no promises for when the operation has concluded.”

“Speaking of the heist, are we ready to send the calling card?” Makoto asked. “We’re going to be on a very tight schedule.”

“Can we go over our plan for that again?” Ryuji asked. “Futaba keeps typing on her phone and laughing, but you guys haven’t told us the details yet.”

“It’s no fun to spoil the surprise!” Futaba said. “Trust me, this is going to knock his socks off.”

“By all accounts, this Izaya rules over a vast information network,” Yusuke said. “His Palace certainly bears out those rumors. How do you propose to avoid his detection when sending the card? We may find ourselves in serious danger if such a man should find us out.”

Futaba huffed, looking cross. “I already _thought_ of that, Inari!” she said with peevish disdain. “Sheesh. Unlike the rest of you, _I_ appreciate the importance of encryption. Which is why I came up with this plan.”

Futaba nudged aside her plates, and slid her laptop onto the table. She popped up the lid, roused the computer from sleep mode, and spun it to face the group. The web browser open on the screen displayed a circular logo emblazoned against a dark backdrop, with an unremarkable password box in the bottom half of the logo. Ryuji recognized the site immediately.

“The Dollars?” he said. “What are they gonna do?”

“The Dollars?” their leader asked.

“Wow, Ryuji beat out Ren?” Futaba said. “Mona, did he not sleep last night?”

“A phantom thief never sells out his leader,” Morgana said with an expression of serene discretion.

“Give the guy a break,” Ryuji said. “I only know about them ‘cause I ran a track meet last year with a guy who was nuts about them. He talked about ‘em non-stop, said he was one of the earliest members. It sounded cool, so I checked the site out, but I never got the password.”

“Whereas I don’t stop till the walls crumble before me!” Futaba said. “These guys hand out passwords like candy nowadays, anyways. Total lack of infosec.”

“Seriously guys, what are the Dollars?” Ren asked. “I wasn’t joking, I really don’t know.”

“It can be tough to tell with you sometimes,” Makoto said. “Essentially, they’re an anonymous group centered on an online forum open to anyone with the password. I’ve seen local reports refer to them as a gang, but that label doesn’t feel quite right.”

“A color gang without a color,” Yusuke said. “How poetic.” He chuckled.

“That’s interesting, but how are we going to use them for the calling card?” Ann said.

“They’ll be our unwitting mouthpieces, Lady Ann,” Morgana said. “Members of the Dollars are spread all throughout the district. If we post the calling card on their discussion board, everyone in Ikebukuro’s going to be talking about it within minutes. There’s no way an information broker could miss a rumor like that, especially not one as competent as this Orihara.”

“I’ll do one better,” Futaba said. “I’m gonna put the calling card on the login page, too. You won’t even be able to think about checking the Dollars page without getting a face-full of phantom thievery!”

Futaba flipped the laptop back towards her, and began humming contentedly as her fingers flew over the keys.

“I may not be sold on reforming society, but man, this is fun!” she said. “There’s some corporate websites I could take down next-”

“Um, maybe we’d better stop at messing with a gang for now,” Ann said. She looked slightly alarmed. “Is this really gonna be OK?”

“Relax,” Futaba said. “These guys are small fry. People join to be in on the trend.” She stretched and yawned. “Hacking their page was so boring, it made me need a nap.” She waggled her fingers over the keyboard and looked at Ren. “You want I should send it or what?”

The Phantom Thieves leaned inwards around the table, sharing glances. Some were reserved; some were eager. Ryuji knew his was probably the most eager of all. He might not be of much help in the planning phase compared to the rest of them-well, except Ann-but when it came to punishing the bastards who lived for making other people’s lives miserable, nobody’s righteous fury burned brighter than his.

Ren spun a chopstick through his fingers, looked to Futaba, and nodded.

“Do it,” he said.

“One cup of instant rumor, coming right up!” she said. Keys clattered furiously for a moment, then fell silent.

“Makeover complete,” she said with a triumphant smirk. “How long do you wanna give it until we go?”

“We shouldn’t need more than an hour,” Makoto said. “According to Futaba, he’s a Dollars member himself. He’s bound to notice very quickly.”

Ann beamed. “So we have time to finish eating!” she said. “Thank god!”

Yusuke looked as though he’d been struck. His eyes dropped to the table, upon which plate upon plate of sushi still sat.

“Who is paying for all this?” he asked. “I’m afraid I’m quite broke…”

“Dude, why didn’t you say so!?” Ryuji said. “We ordered a freakin’ ton of sushi!”

“Sojiro said he’d pay for me and Ren!” Futaba said. She grinned, clearly relishing her next words. “But not you, Inari. Sorry!”

“I just had a photoshoot, Yusuke, so I’ll cover you,” Ann said. “You better not have spent all your money on brushes again!” 

Yusuke remained silent, his eyes firmly fixed on the table. Ann’s strangled growl of frustration made a credible impression of a feral cat.

Ryuji shook his head in exasperation. “Dude, you need to figure out your priorities.” He’d been hanging out with Yusuke for months, and still had no idea what made the guy tick.

The group laid into the sushi with renewed vigor. Ryuji more than did his part. He was about to be risking his life, after all; he felt like he deserved his money’s worth.

As Ann scooped up the very last piece, Makoto checked her phone.

“We should go,” she said. “I’d like to see what people are saying before we get ready to take Izaya’s heart.”

Ren mumbled his assent through a last mouthful of sushi.

“Hell yeah!” Ryuji said. “I bet they’re all talking about us already. We’re going to take that scumbag Izaya down!” The surge of adrenaline which manifested itself before every heist was already pumping him up. They’d nail this bastard for sure.

Makoto clambered to her feet, turned to go, and yelped as she came face-to-face with six and a half feet of towering Afro-Russian looming in the doorway.

Ann jumped. Ryuji scrambled backwards, bumping into the wall, as Futaba dove behind Ren with a yelp. He and Yusuke appeared unruffled.

“How long have you been there?” Makoto squeaked.

The man’s smile was wide and disarming. “I bring bill!” he said. “My Japanese, not so good.” He placed the bill on the table, beaming. “Come Russia Sushi again soon. Good for you!”

Ryuji’s heart ceased jackhammering against his chest.

“Man, you scared the crap outta us!” he said. “How can a dude your size be that stealthy?”

“Is nothing!” Simon said. “Simple trick. You flatter Simon.”

“Uh, sure, man,” Ryuji said. “Thanks for the sushi, I guess?”

The man’s smile grew even wider.

“Most welcome! You children have good night. Come again!”

The group collectively slumped forward in relief as Simon strode away.

“That was way too close,” Ann said. “How did he get there without us noticing?”

“Even I didn’t see him,” Morgana said. “There’s some strange people here in Ikebukuro.”

“Let’s do this so we can get home,” Ryuji said. “This district’s starting to freak me out.”

The group paid their bill and made their way out of the restaurant, Ann warning Yusuke that he’d better save up and take her out to eat somewhere nice in compensation. As they pushed through the door and spilled out into the street, Simon watched them go, wishing them a good night once more. The same impossibly wide smile remained plastered on his face, but Ryuji could have sworn he saw concern in the man’s eyes.

The group forged their way through the sea of humanity flowing throughout the heart of Ikebukuro. Ren and Ryuji formed a battering ram in front of Futaba, as she was constantly jabbing away at her phone while snickering to herself.

“Just a few more minutes,” she said. “I’m really making him mad now.”

“That’s a good thing…right?” Ann asked, a slight note of uncertainty in her voice.

“Relax, he’s not gonna find us,” Futaba said. “He’s good, but I’m better!” She said the last words with a triumphant lilt.

“Where are we gonna go in from?” Ryuji asked. “It’s way too crowded out here to do it out in public.”

“We’ve the whole district to choose from,” Yusuke said. “Finding a suitably quiet area should not prove difficult.”

“He’s right,” Ren said. “We just need to find an empty back alley. Shouldn’t be very hard.”

Ann nodded. A fierce tone crept into her voice. “Are we ready to do this?” she said. Her eyes flashed. “I’m not going to let that bastard talk any more girls into killing themselves.”

Ryuji pounded his fist into his palm. “Hell yeah!” he said. “We’re going to stop him right here and now.”

Ren nodded in quiet agreement. His glasses gleamed with light reflected from the nearby streetlight.

“Well, we can dive in anytime,” Futaba said. “He’s definitely aware of us now. He’s been trying to backtrace me for the last five minutes. I left a few dead ends for him to enjoy.” She snickered, then stared as a van emblazoned with a giant manga girl rolled by.

“Hey, I’ve seen that online! I never thought I’d see it in person,” she said. “I want to meet the guy who drives that.”

“The brushwork is well-executed, but I question the taste,” Yusuke said. 

“Yeah, he seems like the kinda guy who’d be a little _too_ glad to meet you, Futaba, y’know?” Ryuji said. Anybody who could get out of bed in the morning and slide behind the wheel of a car looking like that couldn’t be entirely right in the head.

Futaba scowled.

“Don’t buy into those lame stereotypes!” she said.

Ren coughed politely.

“Let’s go, guys,” Makoto said. She gestured into a nearby alley. “Here should be fine.” Though crammed between two hulking office towers, the alley bathed in warm light from fixtures on the sides of the buildings. Not a single person could be seen anywhere within.

The Phantom Thieves assembled in the dim light of the alley. Ryuji clenched his fists. Just like the moment before the horn sounded the start of a race, the moment before the plunge into the Metaverse set every nerve ending in his body quivering.

Ren pulled out his phone and keyed open the Metaverse Navigator.

“Izaya Orihara, game board, all of Ikebukuro.”

The world rippled before their eyes.


	3. Interlude - Chatroom

\- - - Taro Tanaka has joined the room - - -

\- - - Setton has joined the room - - -

\- - - Kanra has joined the room - - -

[Setton]: Have you heard the rumors? Everyone’s saying the Phantom Thieves are here in Ikebukuro!

[Taro Tanaka]: They sprang totally out of nowhere! Everywhere I go, people are talking about it. There’s posts about it all over the net.

[Setton]: I’ve seen them, too. There’s crazy messages over all the forums I use.

[Setton]: Do you think they’re really phantoms, Kanra?

[Setton]: Kanra?

[Kanra]: Sorryyy, AFK! I couldn’t say. Whatever they are, they’re an audacious bunch. That may come back to bite them!

[Taro Tanaka]: They sounded pretty serious about changing Izaya’s heart. What do you think’s gonna happen?

[Setton]: They took down that Medjed group, after all. Who knows what they’re capable of?

[Kanra]: Well, we’ll find out soon. You can bet on that.

[Taro Tanaka]: You OK, Kanra? You seem a bit off.

\- - - Alibaba has joined the chat - - -

[Kanra]: How’d you get in here?!

[Alibaba]: Sir Izaya Orihara, the utterly arrogant avatar of pride! Too long have you forced human beings to move about like pieces on your game board for your amusement, feeding yourself sick delusions of grandeur.

[Kanra]: This is a private room, you know. You’re being very rude.

[Alibaba]: Humans should make their own fate, not exist at your whim.

[Kanra]: Oh, come on.Why won’t you just let me ban you?

[Alibaba]: The Phantom Thieves have come here to Ikebukuro to take your heart, Izaya. We will take your distorted desires without fail.

[Kanra]: Can’t you go hassle some other innocent chatroom? I mean, really.

\- - - Alibaba has left the chat - - -

[Setton]: That was very dramatic, don’t you think? Do you know what’s going on, Kanra?

[Setton]: Kanra?

\- - - Kanra has left the chat - - -

[Setton]: That’s not like Kanra. Do you think everything’s OK, Taro?

[Taro Tanaka]: Was that really one of the Phantom Thieves? Here?

[Setton]: They’re probably not really phantoms, right? I wonder…

[Taro Tanaka]: But wouldn’t it be cool if they were? Maybe they’re like the Headless Rider!

[Setton]: Haha, yeah…

\- - - Alibaba has joined the chat - - -

[Alibaba]: mwehehehehe

\- - - Alibaba has left the chat - - -


	4. Yosuke's Story

Yosuke Hanamura abandoned all pretense of completing any further work, sighed, and returned his gaze to his smartphone. The phone had been tucked into the corner between a towering stack of papers and the low walls of his cubicle, in the likely vain hope that this might prevent the manager from seeing when he patrolled the office to avoid doing any work. Yosuke called up his web browser and returned to scrolling endlessly through the website of the Dollars, in hopes that some news, or even rumors, might be found to distract from the endless tedium of his workday.

Yosuke had joined the Dollars at Naoto’s behest several months back in order to help with an investigation into gang activity she’d been working. Truth be told, he would’ve joined on his own out of sheer curiosity if he’d found the site before then. A secret, members-only local forum was too intriguing a concept to pass up. Sadly, reality had largely failed to live up to expectation, and he’d mostly been mired in endless complaints about the service at a local restaurant or the audacity of a particularly harsh local konban officer.

In keeping with what he’d come to expect, the site currently had no threads worth the time it’d have taken to read them. Yosuke checked the time. Still another hour before he could reasonably expect to escape, and the sun was already below the horizon. It had looked like such a beautiful summer day, too. He sighed again.

Yosuke popped open his messages and typed out a quick response to a text he’d received earlier from Teddie. The bear-Yosuke still thought of him as that, no matter how long Teddie spent in the real world-still lived in Inaba, close to the TV world, but he loved to pester Yosuke with all manner of questions about dating and “scoring”. Given Yosuke’s own luck, or lack thereof, on that front, he ought to have told Teddie to talk to Yu instead, but typing out the admission would only rub salt in the wound.

“Working hard, Hanamura?” the manager shouted from a few rows of cubicles away.

Yosuke slid the phone back into concealment and groaned under his breath. Only a few more hours to go.

Yosuke put in his best effort at pretending to work for the next hour or so, and was out of his seat, through the door, and down the elevator the next moment after his boss’s departure. In the lobby, Yosuke adjusted the strap of his briefcase as he hurried out the imposing glass double doors which stood sentinel at the threshold between monotony and freedom. As he gained the sidewalk outside, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The pungent scents and myriad odors of Ikebukuro were a far cry from the clear, sharp air of the countryside surrounding Inaba, but Yosuke had been a city boy far longer than he’d lived in the country. The blending of innumerable fragrances and odors smelled like energy and life after a day penned up in a stale office.

The soft chime of a text message alert rang from Yosuke’s pocket. He dug his phone out from between his keys and scanned the message.

_Yosuuuuuke!!!! U btr not have 4gtn about our dinner date tonite!! C u @ 10! *-’_

Yosuke shook his head and slid his phone back into his pocket. Rise’s unreasonably bubbly texting still took even him aback, though she only laid it on extra thick with Yu. Yosuke was still amazed it’d taken her as long as it had to wear Yu down. Teenage Yosuke would’ve fallen over himself so quickly rushing to answer flirty texts from Risette that he’d probably have been sweeping up the shattered fragments of his phone for weeks. Of course, Yu had been nothing but cool, even when meeting her for the first time in the tofu shop, when Yosuke’d barely been able to string two words together without losing his train of thought.

As it happened, Rise was shooting her latest film in Ikebukuro as part of a collaboration with another agency, so Yosuke had seen a fair bit of her recently. Normally, he only saw most of the rest of what he still thought of as the Investigation Team during their regular meetups in Inaba for Golden Week.

Yosuke strolled across the neighborhood, soaking in the riotous energy of Ikebukuro on a Friday night. Under the bright glare of the streetlights, the city teemed with life. People of every description ranged in all directions. Snappily-dressed pedestrians moved with purpose, a dinner reservation or fancy date in mind, while gaggles of teenagers still in their school uniforms lounged against walls or loitered outside convenience stores, and the occasional foreign tourist gawked at the towering buildings and bustling crowd.

As Yosuke moved to cross yet another street en route to his destination, a van rolled by, nondescript in every regard, with the sole exception of the massive manga girl portrait emblazoned on its side door. Yosuke snorted at the sight. He’d seen it before, of course. You could hardly live in Ikebukuro and not remember that particular vehicle. He wondered again how the driver managed to hold his head up behind the wheel, then shrugged. Some people had no shame.

Sixtieth Floor Street practically burst at the seams with energy as salarymen and students swarmed into its sundry restaurants. Yosuke threaded through the crowds towards a side alley, intend on reaching his destination without incident.

A few minutes’ more walk at a brisk pace brought Yosuke to the wholly unremarkable exterior to Russia Sushi. He’d first discovered the restaurant while staking it out at Naoto’s behest during her case. He’d never thanked her enough for that tremendous stroke of luck. Most people avoided the place out of an understandable belief that the owners were at least mildly deranged, and most people were missing out on some of the best sushi in the entire ward.

The towering black man outside the restaurant, his sushi chef garb as ludicrously incongruous with his thickly-muscled frame as ever, smiled in greeting.

“Yosuke!” he said. “Welcome!”

“Evening, Simon,” Yosuke said. He returned Simon’s smile. “How’s business?”

“Good, always good! Better now you come. We keep sushi flowing!”

“I always count on that. Where else am I going to drown my sorrows in seafood? Man, the corporate life makes me miss retail.”

“You work too hard, Yosuke! That no good. You need honest job like sushi chef. Good hours. Keep you strong. Too bad you not Russian!”

“Where were you to tell me that when I was in high school, Simon?”

“Making sushi!”

Yosuke laughed. “I could’ve guessed,” he said.

“Never too late to start, friend,” Simon said. “You swing knife like pro in no time.”

“Actually, I’m better with one than you might think,” Yosuke said with a wink. “Maybe I should go pro.”

“You know knife? You full of surprises, friend. You stay out of trouble.”

Yosuke waved a hand.

“Ah, it was forever ago, when I used to be cool. Now I just carry a briefcase. Believe it or not, my life used to be full of adventure, y’know.”

“I order you good sushi and we talk sometime. Sushi good for you, jog your memory. Better stories on full stomach.”

“Simon, whatever your boss is paying you, you deserve a raise.”

“Hah! You no tell him that. Raises for bourgeois! Russia Sushi proletarian restaurant. Built on back of peoples’ struggle.”

“Believe me, I know all about the peoples’ struggle. I’m struggling every day.”

“Is life! Keep head up. You meet nice girl sometime soon.”

“Geez, Simon, now you’re starting to sound like my mother. Bad enough that I get it at home, but when I’m eating out, too?”

“Good one, Yosuke! She wonderful woman.”

Well, this conversation had taken an abrupt turn for the bizarre, but then again, with Simon, they usually did.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Simon, but I’m going to go stuff my face before you start asking me about my next performance review,” Yosuke said.

“Good, good! Good for you!”

“Well, at least something is,” said Yosuke as he hefted his briefcase onto his shoulder and strode inside.

Mournful Russian folk music blared from the speakers like a particularly somber dirge. Yosuke strode past stark, gleaming marble and settled into a seat at the sushi counter. Despite the 19th-century tsarist decor, the counter itself wouldn’t have looked out of place at a traditional sushi restaurant in Inaba.

Yosuke nodded at the chef working behind the counter, the proprietor of Russia Sushi. Where Simon was unlikely a Russian as you might expect to find, Dennis was every inch the image of the ice-cold, flint-eyed Russian kingpin Yosuke had seen in a dozen American action movies. Dennis returned the nod, then turned back to chopping sushi. The knife flew in a blur of unerringly accurate strokes, leaving perfectly-sliced chunks of fish in its wake.

Yosuke briefly wondered where Dennis had gotten so handy with a knife, and then reflected that he should probably watch less action movies. He was starting to think like Chie, and there was no scarier thought than that. Yosuke made his customary order, and settled back into the comfortingly hectic routine of Russia Sushi on a Friday night. As chatter of the regulars mixed with a more energetic stretch of music to create a lively atmosphere, a few more coils of workday tension unwound themselves from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, and soaked in the sounds and smells around him.

After a few minutes of contemplation, the sushi plate dropped onto the counter in front of him, and Yosuke dug in with gusto. Russia Sushi might be the oddest restaurant in the ward, but there was nothing wrong with the food.

A tremendous yawn drew Yosuke’s attention away from his food. The yawn had come from one of the corner rooms, where a gaggle of teenagers sat cross-legged around the wide, low table. The group made for an odd sight, including as it did a breathtaking foreign girl, a near-skeletal boy who brought new meaning to the word ‘lanky’, a girl with bright orange hair hunched over the table in a positively goblinesque squat, and a punk whose hair was the same shade of bottle-blond as Kanji’s had once been.

A flicker of movement in a bag sitting next to the table caught Yosuke’s eye. Had there been a tail poking out of that bag? He peered closer, but the bag refused to stir. Yosuke massaged his forehead. He’d heard stories of overwork-induced hallucinations, but he’d managed to avoid them. Until now, it seemed.

The spiky-haired blond punk glared in Yosuke’s direction. “Eyes on your food, creep!” he yelled.

Yosuke rolled his eyes and looked away. The kid probably thought he’d been ogling the girls. Well, if Yosuke ever ended up becoming _that_ kind of salaryman, he hoped Yu would be there to put him down.

Yosuke scarfed down his sushi, savoring every bite. After yet another workweek that felt more like a work month, the fish tasted like freedom. He reached for the next piece of his sushi as his mind wandered. His chopsticks clacked on air over an empty plate. He’d already eaten the last piece. Ah, well. Any freedom was temporary, after all.

Yosuke glanced back over at the group of teenagers in the corner. The tiny, red-haired girl was attempting to wrest a piece of sushi away from the human skeleton, who frankly seemed to need the food quite a bit more. The girl snatched the sushi away and hunched over it with an expression of maniacal glee, fending off the skeleton’s futile attempts to reclaim it.

Kids. They didn’t know how good they had it. He realized that he’d been looking for a smidgen longer than was socially acceptable, and quickly averted his gaze once more before the punk challenged him again.

A quick look at his phone revealed that it was about time to get ready for meeting Rise. He’d get more than an earful if he ended up running late. He tugged out his wallet, retrieved a few crumpled bills, and slid them over the counter to Dennis, then strode back into the night.


	5. Rise's Story - Part One

Rise slid down the wall to the floor with an exhausted groan. The walls of the dance studio swam before her eyes, with the mirrored coating only adding to her discomfort. She vowed to find and throttle her producer for finding time to schedule an hours-long choreography session for her next concert in the midst of shooting a movie. Even Risette was only human, after all.

Rise closed her eyes and savored the brief, blissful moment of rest, all of her protesting muscles wonderfully slack. She luxuriated in the sensation for just a moment, then breathed deeply, forced her eyes open, and struggled to her feet. There was no way she was going to meet Yosuke without steam-blasting every pore in her body first.

After a hedonistic amount of time in the shower, Rise wrung her hair out under the blowdryer one last time, then killed it and tossed it back on a shelf. She’d spent longer in the shower than strictly necessary, but there was still plenty of time to toss together an outfit before her driver came to bring her to Yosuke’s. While the fresh set of sweats she’d changed into weren’t lacking in comfort, wearing them for twelve hours straight was quite enough.

Rise glanced at her personal phone, the one reserved for people who knew Rise, not just Risette. Which, granted, pretty much meant just the old Inaba team, but that suited her just fine. Yosuke had texted her that he’d be out of work in time for a late dinner since his manager had had fled the office early. She smiled at the thought of the rant he’d no doubt regale her with. It was a shame Yu couldn’t be there to witness it, but she’d fill him in on all the details after.

Lost in her train of thought, Rise took half a moment to notice that a girl had jolted open her door and poured in through the gap. She was up and halfway to the door before she checked herself.

“Hey, who are you?” she said. She jabbed a finger at the girl. “You can’t just barge into someone’s room!”

The girl flicked the door shut in an effortless blur. Despite its speed, the door somehow swung home without so much as a sound. The interloper turned back towards Rise, gossamer curtains of jet-black hair parting to reveal an inhumanly pale and very familiar face.

“You’re Ruri Hirijibe!” Rise said, dumbfounded. It wasn’t the fact that she was face-to-face with another idol that surprised her-that happened about a hundred times a day-but that another idol had apparently gone completely insane and broken into her room.

“Sorry,” Ruri said. “I needed somewhere to hide.”

“Hide? From who?”

The door rattled in its frame with a tremendous crash.

“From them,” Ruri said.

Rise could only stare, mute with shock. Her mundane routine had exploded into surreal parody with impossible speed. The door leapt under another brutal impact. Ruri flung herself against the door, a seemingly pointless gesture given her tiny frame. Frozen to the spot, Rise watched in amazement as Ruri’s bracing of the door robbed the next blow of most of its impact.

The unseen assailants must have sensed the resistance, for the next assault rocked the doorframe with redoubled force. The metal of the hinges began to buckle, but Rise couldn’t stir herself to action.

“Sorry for getting you involved in this,” Ruri said. “I won’t be able to hold them off much longer.”

The girl’s tone, so impossibly calm despite the insanity of their circumstances, snapped Rise out of her shock.

“How can you be so calm?!” she yelled, unable to keep a shrill of panic out of her voice. “This is insane! You’re like a robot!”

“Sorry,” Ruri said once more. She left it at that.

Rise huffed. “Oh, never mind!” she said. She flinched as the door shuddered once more under another bruising slam.

“Jeez, this is ridiculous.” She gazed down at her utilitarian slate-gray sweatpants.

“And I didn’t even have time to change,” she said with a sigh. “C’mon, we’re getting out of here.”

Rise grabbed Ruri by the wrist, turned, and tugged. It was like pulling at a statue.

“Hey, you’re strong!” Rise said. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“I don’t think you’ll survive if we leave through the window,” Ruri said. She eyed the broad, thirtieth-floor glass window with clinical detachment.

“I didn’t mean the window! Are you crazy? And hey, what do you mean _I_ won’t survive? What about you?” Rise shook her head. “Never mind. It’s too weird to explain right now, but I know another way out. Just trust me, okay?”

Ruri cocked her head, then nodded after a moment’s silence. She ceased to be the proverbial immovable object, allowing Rise to tug her away from the door and towards the gaping flatscreen TV which yawned out over half of the adjoining wall. Inoue thought she’d just been acting the prima donna when she insisted on an oversize, high-end television from such a particular store. If only he knew why she’d been so insistent about procuring one directly from Inaba, he might understand.

Stark white circles rippled out from where Rise’s index finger pressed against the screen. Behind her, the tortured metal of the hinges squealed in protest.

She breathed deeply, then plunged forward, pulling Ruri behind her.

The sensation of tumbling end over end in freefall, no less uncomfortable for its familiarity, enveloped Rise. A mad kaleidoscope of white and black rushed past her eyes, then dissolved into an onrushing floor.

Rise attempted to contort herself into the form that would permit something approaching a graceful landing. As usual, she thudded into the ground in an ungainly tumble of limbs. Maybe next time. 

A particularly sore spot in her thigh throbbed as Rise clambered back to her feet. She rubbed it with a wince. That was so going to leave a mark. To her right, Ruri had somehow managed to land on her feet, and was scanning the brilliant horizons of the TV world. They had landed at the edge of a breathtakingly beautiful forest. To their right, cherry trees splayed their branches through the air, each one bursting with delicate pale pink petals. In the TV world, cherry trees were always in season, and each flower glistened with pure, clear morning dew. Above the trees, the azure-blue sky stretched across the horizon, with nary a cloud in site.

Somehow, despite everything, Ruri didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. Something was seriously off with that girl. Rise edged somewhat closer, but maintained a respectable distance from Ruri.

“Sorry about dragging you in like that,” Rise said. “I know this all seems crazy, but I can explain.”

“There’s a world inside the TV,” Ruri said with matter-of-fact calm. “How peculiar.”

“Well, yeah, pretty much,” Rise said, somewhat deflated. If this failed to undermine Ruri’s iron-masked facade, nothing would. “Only a few people can enter, and most TVs aren’t connected. Anyways, those thugs can’t follow us in here.”

Rise rounded on Ruri.

“Which reminds me,” she said. “What the hell was all that? Are you on the bad side of the Yakuza or something?”

For only the briefest of moments, something resembling a grimace flashed across Ruri’s inhumanly beautiful features.

“Not the yakuza,” Ruri said. “The less I tell you, the safer you are.”

Rise rolled her eyes.

“Fine, don’t share anything,” she said. “Drag me in and keep me in the dark, you weirdo.”

Ruri’s dispassionate mask failed to crack even so much as a millimeter.

Rise huffed and crossed her arms.

Ruri’s gaze continued to bore into the horizon.

“What’s your deal, anyways?” Rise asked. “And don’t tell me you’re just a normal idol. That’s not going to fly.”

A reply, it seemed, was not forthcoming.

“Fine,” she said. If this girl wanted to be rude, she’d return the favor and then some.

Ruri craned her neck upwards and gazed into the sky, then checked her phone.

“Don’t bother,” Rise said. “Reception’s really bad inside a TV.”

“Someone is on their way to retrieve me,” Ruri said. “I do not want to miss them.”

“You’ve got backup? Who?”

“Not important.”

“Oh, come on,” Rise said. “Well, if you’ve got somewhere to be, we’ll just lay low here for a few minutes.”

Ruri’s gaze returned to the sky.

“How do we get out?” she said.

Rise smirked, and said nothing. How the tables had turned.

“Very well,” Ruri said. She shrugged and looked away.

Rise stamped her foot. “Jeez, what does it take to get under your skin? I can make the exit. I’ll do it once I know the coast is clear.”

“How can you know that from in here?”

If this didn’t rattle Ruri, Rise didn’t know what would.

“Himiko!” she shouted. Her Persona shimmered into existence around her, lowering its visor over her head. Rise drew upon Himiko’s preternatural senses and pushed her awareness out, diffusing it over the vast expanse of the TV world. Her initial scan revealed no signs of life. It had probably been too much to hope that Yu might happen to be in the TV world too at that precise moment, but she’d allowed herself to momentarily indulge the fantasy anyways. After all, she’d only gotten that TV, and the one in her apartment, so she could sneak off to meet him away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

Satisfied that the TV world itself was as quiet as she’d come to expect, she pressed her consciousness against the boundary separating the TV world from the real one. With diligent practice, Rise had mastered the ability to peek through the TV with Himiko and survey what might be happening on the other side. While doing so still yielded only a mostly-fuzzy impression of colors, shapes, and voices, it was clear that the unwelcome guests in Rise’s room had gone.

“See, you’re not the only one with a few secrets,” Rise said as she turned to Ruri. “Now let’s both act like adults and-”

Rise froze. For the briefest of moments, she had brushed Himiko’s gaze over Ruri. What she felt set her hair on end.

“You’re not human,” she whispered.

Ruri’s eyes, as utterly flat and emotionless as sheets of cold steel, gazed back unblinkingly.

“That’s true,” Ruri said. “I’m a dhampyr.”

“A what now?” Rise said, momentarily forgetting her fear.

“I’m a quarter-vampire,” Ruri said. “It runs in the family.”

As much as she wanted to, Rise couldn’t hold back the next question.

“Do you, like…eat people?”

“You’re in no danger from me,” she said. “My pursuers may not see you as uninvolved, though.”

“God, you’re serious,” Rise said. “Vampires are real? This is nuts.”

One of Ruri’s eyebrows seemed to twitch upwards ever so slightly.

“I’m not the only one keeping some remarkable secrets,” she said. “We are standing inside of a TV.”

“Okay, point taken,” Rise said. “I guess I’m so used to all of this that I forget how crazy it seemed at first. Maybe vampires aren’t so far-fetched.”

She’d have to tell this story to Yu about five times to convince him she hadn’t dozed off and confused some new movie project with reality. Rise still wasn’t convinced she believed it herself. Only Persona users could pass into the TV world, or experience that ‘Dark Hour’ that the Shadow Operatives described, so naturally, the secret didn’t get out. But vampires? Sucking blood and killing people for centuries, and somehow staying hidden in the shadows?

Just when she thought her life couldn’t possibly get any weirder.

Well, Rise decided, she might as well focus on the situation at hand. There’d be plenty of time to debate the philosophical implications over dinner with Yosuke.

Rise dismissed Himiko, and the visor around her eyes shimmered away into nothingness. When gazing upon Ruri with her own two eyes, rather than Himiko’s all-seeing one, she could no longer perceive the quiet menace roiling just beneath her skin. The girl’s quiet demeanor now set her skin crawling, though.

“Did you have something to tell me?” Ruri asked.

“The men chasing you aren’t there anymore,” Rise said. “At least as far as I can tell, anyways. Let’s go meet your friend.”

“How are we going to get out?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I’ll make the exit,” Rise said.

She blessed her foresight in having Teddy teach her how to make the exit TV. It hadn’t been easy to master, but this way she didn’t need to coordinate with the lovable but ditzy bear every time she wanted to sneak out of her studio or apartment to visit Yu. She’d heard enough comments from him about Yu “scoring” to last multiple lifetimes. 

After summoning Himiko once more, Rise focused deep within herself and tugged at a thread of power nestled deep within. Her grasp on the thin filament of energy secure, she spun it out into the shape of the stack of exit televisions. The unmistakably flat, bulky CRT televisions popped into existence at her feet, piled one on top of the other. Her version of the exit appeared identical to Teddie’s in all respects, with one exception; for reasons she’d never been able to discern, it was always covered in posters promoting her newest album. Sure, it was a little commercial, but it added a nice personal touch.

“Time to go,” Rise said, banishing Himiko.

Ruri eyed the TVs with her typical cold dispassion. This increasingly seemed to Rise like the only method of expression the girl could manage.

“How remarkable,” she said. “Do we simply jump in?”

“Yup, that’s it!” Rise said. “You’ll need to go first. The exit’s going to disappear when I leave.”

Ruri nodded. In one fluid motion, she stepped over to the stack of televisions and poured herself through the screen with the lithe grace of a panther.

Rise leapt through after her, and the world dissolved into white and black once more.


	6. Rise's Story - Part Two

Rise tumbled out of the TV onto a yoga mat which she’d carefully positioned to ensure soft landings. She clambered to her feet, brushing herself off. The men had indeed gone, though they’d torn through her room like a whirlwind in their attempts to find her and Ruri. The couch lay on its side, its cushions strewn in every corner, and every painting or poster on the wall had been torn down with reckless abandon. This was going to be hard to explain to Mr. Inoue.

Ruri stood in the midst of the chaos, talking to a figure whom Rise didn’t recognize. Tall and thin, they wore a leather motorcycle bodysuit and, oddly enough, a bright yellow racing helmet, which they hadn’t removed despite being indoors. Judging by the feminine swell of the bodysuit’s chest area, the biker must have been female, but that information brought Rise no closer to discerning her identity.

Rather than speaking in response to Ruri’s thanks, the biker’s fingers flew across a PDA, which she then held out to the girl. Was the biker mute? Rise’s evening kept getting odder.

Rise cleared her throat, causing both of their heads to swivel in her direction.

“This is Celty,” Ruri said. “She’s a courier. I suggest you leave with us. We will drop you off wherever you like.”

Celty’s expression was unreadable behind her tinted visor, but Rise still had the impression that the biker was staring at her in either fascination or horror. Celty’s fingers flew over her PDA, and she held it out to Rise.

_Did you just come out of that TV??_

“It’s a long story,” Rise said. “We should get out of here before building security or the other girls come to check on the noise.”

Fingers flew over the keypad once more.

_Right. You can both ride behind me._

“Ride? What are we going to ride?”

The biker jerked a thumb back over her shoulder. Rise’s gaze followed the line indicated. A motorcycle stood against one wall, leaned against its kickstand.

A large, pitch-black motorcycle stood against the wall of her dressing room.

“Wha-How-” she stammered.

 _You’ll see in a moment_ , Celty typed. _Follow me._ She strode over to the bike and mounted it. Ruri swung on behind her. Both inclined their heads in Rise’s direction.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” she said. “This is a lot to take in, you know.”

She picked her way through the maze of wreckage strewn across the room and clambered on behind Ruri. Defying her expectation, the seat proved long enough to seat three people comfortably. She clung on to Ruri’s waist.

“Are we really going to ride this out of a skyscraper?” she asked. “This is so insane…”

Shadows rippled along Celty’s arm, and stretched out into a wickedly curved scythe. While Rise’s mind raced to catch up to the impossibility, the scythe lashed out at one of the thick floor-to-ceiling windows which overlooked the Tokyo skyline. In four quick, clean strokes, a rectangle had been sliced into the glass at perfect right angles. Other tentacles of shadow lashed out, gripped onto the cut-out glass, and dragged it inside. They settled it onto the floor, then vanished.

Wind roared through the newly-opened breach in the glass, catching up Rise’s hair and flying it out behind her. While the night was a calm one, fifty stories up, the wind blew with vigor.

Rise stared at the window, mouth agape. Was the biker a Shadow? But how could they be doing this in the real world? Even Teddie had never been able to manifest powers like this outside of the TV world.

She didn’t have a chance to ask, as more shadows swirled around Ruri’s head, then rushed back to surround Rise. She yelped and flinched away, but they enveloped her completely, plunging her into total darkness.

Just as abruptly as it had vanished, the light flooded back, as the shadows resolved themselves into a visor just as see-through as a typical tinted one. To Rise’s front, Ruri wore a similar helmet.

“God, don’t scare me like that!” Rise snapped. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack!”

Celty held out the PDA.

 _Sorry_ , she said. _We’re going to leave now. Hold on tight._

“Leave, like out the window? You’re kidding me!”

The last bit of Rise’s yell was drowned out by a deafening whinny, as Celty gunned the bike. They shot forward, out the window, and down the face of the building, clinging to it like a spider.

Rise screamed the whole way down.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

 

As the bike drifted to a halt outside a little-used back entrance to Yosuke’s building, Rise took what felt like the first breath she’d had in the last thirty minutes. Her grip on Celty’s waist slackened, then loosened entirely, as her arms dropped to her side like leaden weights.

Celty had dropped Ruri off near what Rise recognized as Yuhei Heiwajima’s apartment complex. She supposed it made sense; they were dating, after all. Rise had then asked Celty to bring her to Yosuke’s. She’d been planning on going there anyways, so it seemed as good a place as any to hole up.

Fortunately, the ride had been long enough for her bedeviled brain to digest the night’s buffet of otherworldly revelations and hair-raising close calls. Upon reflection, vampires didn’t seem any more absurd than Shadows, and whatever Celty was, it couldn’t be odder than Teddy, Aigis, or Labrys, right? At least, that was what she had firmly resolved to tell herself.

On sound mental footing once more, Rise hopped off the bike.

“Thanks for taking me all the way here,” Rise said. She reflexively reached for her wallet, before remembering that the madhouse in her dressing room hadn’t allowed for time to grab her purse. “I can’t pay you now, but I’ll get you the money through Ruri once I have my wallet again.”

 _That won’t be necessary,_ Celty typed. _Friends of Ruri ride for free._

“Gee, that’s nice of you,” Rise said. She fought back the reflexive urge to insist on paying. In this instance, proper decorum could take a backseat to avoiding cash-only underworld transactions. That kind of thing didn’t look good on an idol’s resume.

Celty appeared to hesitate before typing her next message.

_Did you really come out of the TV?_

“Don’t go telling anyone, okay?” Rise said. “I don’t want to have to explain that in my next interview.”

_Your secret’s safe with me. You’ve got to be discreet to work in the underworld, after all._

Rise laughed. “Point taken. Oh, and don’t worry about falling through any TVs. Only people like me can do it.”

Celty’s posture suggested palpable relief.

_That’s good. We’ve got a big TV at home, and my boyfriend is just the type of person to fall through it._

“Well, he’s got one kick-ass girlfriend,” Rise said. “You’re seriously amazing.” She glanced down the street. Several pedestrians, still two blocks distant, were ambling in their direction.

“I should get inside before somebody sees me,” she said. “Thanks again for getting us out of there.”

 _Be careful out there,_ Celty said. _Ikebukuro is a dangerous place._

 _“_ I’m learning that very quickly,” Rise said with a wry smile. “Right back atcha.”

Celty swung her feet back onto the bike and sped off with no more noise than another low whicker. How exactly the motorcycle managed that was a question which Rise filed in the dustiest, most remote mental cabinet she had. Her psyche couldn’t take any more existential pondering today.

After ducking into the building, Rise fired off a quick text to Mr. Inoue explaining that someone had tried to break into her dressing room, and that she’d gone to stay with a friend. Naturally, she omitted the rest of the details. The less he knew, the better for him. God, now she was sounding like Ruri. Maybe the girl had a point after all.

As the elevator rendered impossible escape from the inquisitive gaze of overly perceptive passersby, Rise opted for the stairs. The post-workout ache in her legs had largely subsided, and climbing a few flights didn’t sound so daunting anymore.

Rise rapped on Yosuke’s door. Thankfully, no one else had used the stairwell during her climb, and so her whereabouts continued to remain a secret.

“Yosuke!” she said. “C’mon, open up!”

The metallic clink of a deadbolt disengaging came from the other side, and the door swung open to reveal Yosuke’s familiar face.

“Rise?” he said. “What the hell is going on? I sent like five texts.”

“I’ll explain once I’m out of this hallway,” she said, pushing past him into the apartment. “Anybody could spot me out here without my sunglasses and hoodie.”

Yosuke stepped to let her pass, then swung the door shut behind her, a peevish look on his face.

“Well, why don’t you have them?” he said. “I’m being left in the dark here, aren’t I?”

“Hold it for just a sec, okay?” Rise said. “Boy, do I have a story to tell you.”

Not much in the apartment had changed since her last visit. The overall impression was that of tenants who lacked the time and energy to do much cleaning, as clothes lay in the odd heap on the floor, dishes were piled high in the sink, and layers of dust thick enough to sweep a finger through covered the tops of every shelf.

Rise flopped onto the couch with an over-exaggerated sigh. Some good-natured drama wouldn’t hurt anyone, and dammit, she needed to blow off some steam.

Yosuke crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he said.

“No way are you gonna believe me,” Rise said, “but I’ll tell you anyways.”

She spun out the whole story for Yosuke with her finest theatrical flair, including a touch of embellishment on the degree of personal peril involved. By the end, his jaw was practically scraping the floor.

“You met the Black Rider?” he said incredulously. “Dude, I followed Naoto around for a month and never saw them! What were they like?”

“The Black Rider?” Rise said. “No, her name was Celty. Who’s the Black Rider?”

Yosuke’s eyes bulged even further. “You know her _name?_ And it’s a her? That makes it even better! She’s an urban legend here in Ikebukuro. Some people say she’s a monster, or that she’s just CGI whipped up by the networks to improve their ratings.”

“Trust me, there’s no CGI,” Rise said. “I’m gonna have nightmares about driving down a skyscraper for months.”

Yosuke stroked his chin, his gaze thoughtful.

“So she might be a Shadow living in the real world, like Teddie?”

Rise shrugged. “Who knows? I can’t sense that kinda stuff outside of the TV World. We should ask Teddie.”

Yosuke snorted. “ ‘I’m beary sorry, Yosuke, but a normal old bear like me doesn’t know anything about Black Riders,’” he said in his best sing-song Teddie impression.

Rise laughed. “Okay, maybe we should go straight to Naoto,” she said.

A pained expression crossed Yosuke’s face.

“It says a lot about our lives that vampires being real was like third on my list of questions, doesn’t it?” he said.

“It gets a little easier if you think of your whole life as acting in some sci-fi TV show,” Rise said.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s gonna make me feel better,” he said. “I’ll leave the acting to you.”

Rise peeked her head over the couch. The doors to both bedrooms were ajar, with each bed heavily rumpled.

“Awww, she’s still sleeping in her own bed?” Rise said.

Yosuke groaned.

“For the last time, it’s not like that,” he said. “We’re just roommates. Rent is expensive. You guys need to let it rest.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Rise said.

“I had my sense of humor surgically removed when I became a salaryman,” he said. “Didn’t you know? That’s standard procedure.” He glanced at his phone. “Hey, did you hear about the Phantom Thieves?”

“What about them?” Rise was familiar with them, of course. The Medjed incident had been headline news on every major media outlet for a month. You’d have to be living under a rock not to know about the Phantom Thieves.

“They’re here in Ikebukuro!” he said. “You really haven’t heard? It’s all over the news.”

“I’ve been in rehearsal all day. There’s hardly time to check my text messages. Forget about checking the news!”

Before Rise could ask what exactly the Phantom Thieves were doing in Ikebukuro, a key scrabbled its way into the lock, the apartment door swung open, and Chie collapsed through the doorway into a panting, frantic heap.

 


	7. Chie's Story - Part One

Chie Satonaka stifled a yawn. The inhalation caused the straps of her dark blue gym bag to dig into her right shoulder, weighed down as they were by the sundry books and damp exercise sweats needed to make it through the day at the academy. She winced and rolled her shoulder to adjust the bag. The pressure relented, prompting a sigh of relief. Always giving a hundred and ten percent in training was a simple fact of life for her, but did it ever leave you exhausted by the end of the day. A quick glance at her watch once again showed that she’d spent far longer than she’d thought in the gym post-schoolday. She couldn’t help it; time just fell away when she was in the zone.

And so, she now found herself meandering down the streets of Ikebukuro appreciably late at night, bathed in the warm glow of the streetlights. Chie gazed up at the towering skyscrapers which rose about her on all sides, their sheer faces dotted with squares of light from the offices of late-working salarymen. She’d been in Tokyo for long enough for its colossal scale and majestic grandeur to dwindle from utterly overwhelming to merely overbearing, but the city still didn’t sit quite right with her. She was a country girl, dammit. She needed the whispering rush of the river and the soft murmur of grass in the wind to feel completely herself.

Instead, she got the whizzing roars of car engines, peppered by the discordant symphony of angry honks. Well, that was life. Just one little graduation, and then she’d be right back where she belonged.

Chie picked up her pace. If she hurried, she’d be able to make it back to the apartment in time to clean up before Rise arrived. Their apartment looked as though it’d picked a fight with a tsunami and lost, and no way did she trust Yosuke to lift a finger to tidy up. She wondered again why she’d agreed to live with him. Still, they hadn’t killed each other yet.

As she hastened on her way, a pitch-black motorcycle shot past Chie and darted down the road. Chie stared at the bike in surprise without knowing quite why. Motorcycles were omnipresent on the streets of Ikebukero, and this one hadn’t even been loud enough to startle her.

In fact, Chie realized with a jolt, it hadn’t made so much as a whisper, despite whipping past her on the right by what seemed like mere inches. What kind of bike was that quiet?

The biker’s yellow helmet flashed under the bright lights of the road. Beneath the helmet, the driver was clad neck-to-toe in a black leather jumpsuit.The driver gunned the throttle, producing not a raspy growl from the engine, but a full-throated, honest-to-god whinny which carried through the air like the clear peal of a shrine bell on a frosty winter day.

The bike whipped around the next corner in a tight left turn, and vanished from Chie’s sight. The whinny remained behind, and seemed to hang in the air like a living thing, echoing in Chie’s eardrums.

A cold sweat crawled down the back of Chie’s neck. Her teeth inexplicably picked that moment to chatter. She clamped her jaw firmly shut. She didn’t believe in silly urban legends. She was a competent, brave soon-to-be policewoman who’d simply seen a custom bike that some weirdo motorhead had spent far too much time tinkering with. She nodded. Yeah, that was definitely it.

Chie crept up to where the bike had turned and flattened her back against the building wall on her side of the corner. The unearthly whinny still rang in her eyes. She shook her head violently, trying to clear it. She failed.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was an adult. She was going to be a cop. She was being ridiculous.

She peered around the corner ever so slightly.

The motorcycle had pulled off the road, and leaned against the sidewalk, propped up by its parking brake. The biker herself stood on the sidewalk. Oddly, even though she’d gotten off the bike, she also hadn’t removed her helmet. Chie wondered why for a moment. Her mind produced a half-dozen lurid explanations before she decided it might be better not to think about that.

There went her stupid teeth chattering again.

The biker appeared to be in conversation with a tall man. Upon a closer look, he proved even more ludicrously incongruous than the still-helmeted biker in the one-piece leather jumpsuit. He wore a well-kept high-end bartender’s outfit, complete with black bowtie, and topped by a shock of bottle-blonde yellow hair. Evidently, he hadn’t realized night had fallen, because a pair of sunglasses topped off the whole ensemble. For a brief impossible moment, Chie found herself wondering what Kanji was doing in Ikebukuro, and how he knew this biker. Reality then set in, and reminded her that Kanji had quit dying his hair years ago. Plus, the bartender carried himself completely differently from Kanji, now that she looked. Even from half a block away, Chie felt an aura of quiet menace radiating off him. Kanji’s now-defunct brand of scary had never seemed so tightly wound.

The bartender, or possible yakuza member, shifted his stance and said something to the biker, too quietly for Chie to overhear. In response, the biker fingers flew over a small gray PDA held in the palm of her left hand. The biker held out the PDA towards the man, who nodded and said something else in reply. Was she typing out messages instead of talking?

As Chie grew increasingly firm in the conviction that she’d stumbled across some bizarre kind of gang activity, her chills faded away, pushed out by her swelling curiosity. Just what had she stumbled onto? She flipped out her phone, prepared to call this into the police if the situation escalated, and rued her trainee status. Interventions like this would be so much easier if she actually had a badge.

And then things got really, really bad.

“Hey!” the bartender shouted, his voice clearly audible now. He pointed straight at Chie. “You, creep! What’re you looking at? Get over here!”

Chie felt her doom descend as surely as though the hand pointed at her was the skeletal vise of Death itself.

She turned to run, but her frozen muscles betrayed her, budging not a single inch.

The bartender strode towards her. He seemed to swell in height with every step.

“You’re just gonna go around spying on people, huh?” he said, his voice an angry bark. “You looking for a lesson on manners?”

The jumpsuit-clad biker looked on, but said nothing, her visage hidden behind the cool, impassive gleam of her visor.

The blond man stepped towards Chie. She gasped as she finally realized why he seemed familiar. It wasn’t that he looked like Kanji. That was _Shizuo Heiwajima!_ Rumors and hearsay about him flew fast and thick at the Academy, but their sheer implausibility led Chie to dismiss them. Seeing him in person, Chie now found that not only did she believe every one of the stories, she could quite well make up a few of her own. In spite of his ridiculous getup - or perhaps partly due to it - sheer, violent menace rolled off of him in waves. Bizarrely, it felt like being in the presence of a Shadow.

With the very face of Death itself looking her in the eye, Chie managed to spur herself to action, and ran like her life depended on it. Which, in fact, it might.

Chie took off at the speed of light. She wove between passing cars and a cacophony of angry honks as she darted across the street, then hurtled into the lobby of her apartment building like a tornado and rushed up the stairs.

Chie bounded up the stairwell, all twelve flights of it, and rushed down the hallway. She didn’t dare look back, convinced that if she did, she’d see the blonde bartender a step behind. She skidded to a halt in front of her door, unlocked it and wrenched it open with more speed than she’d thought possible, dove through, and shoved it shut. With a wheeze, she collapsed to the ground. Safe at last. Sprinting up a dozen floors’ worth of stairs normally wouldn’t leave her this winded, but she’d already been worn out from her day at the academy.

Yosuke and Rise turned in surprise. They looked at Chie as though she’d lost her mind.

“What the hell, Chie?” Yosuke said, a perplexed expression on his face. “Did you run all the way home from the station?” He smirked. “Didn’t get enough training in at the academy today?”

Chie unslung her bag and dropped it to the floor with a thud. She glared at Yosuke. That stupid smirk rankled her enough to press her near brush with Death itself out of her mind. She stamped her foot.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she said. “For your information, I almost died, you jerk!”

“No way!” Rise said. “Me too!” She flowed up from the couch and threw herself into a bone-crunching hug before Chie could so much as twitch.

“It’s so good to see you!” she said. “This day has been _insane_.”

Chie returned the hug with a smile. She didn’t see Rise nearly as much as she’d like. That was true for the whole Investigation Team, really, except Yosuke. She saw way more of him than she’d like.

“Wait, you almost died?” Yosuke said. He stood as well, looking almost concerned. “You’re not even on the streets yet, so what happened?”

“Was it a mugging?” Rise said. She clung on tighter, her eyes watering. “Oh, are you okay?”

Chie extricated herself from Rise’s grip with more difficulty than she had breaking a hold during sparring at her gym.

“Shizuo Heiwajima was _right there,_ ” she said, pointing at the window which overlooked the site of her near-death encounter.

“Shizuowhozit?” Rise asked. Yosuke, on the other hand, rushed straight to the window and peeked out from between the shades.

“You picked a fight with Shizuo Heiwajima? Holy crap, dude! Do you have a death wish? That guy’s a monster!”

“I didn’t pick a fight! Jeez!” she said with a scowl. “I practically ran into the guy!”

“Yeah, sure,” Yosuke said, derision plain on his face. “Oh man, he really is out there! And he’s talking to some biker.” Nervous excitement ran through his voice.

“Guys!” Rise said, her voice sharp with annoyance. “Who’s this Shizuo guy?”

“He’s an Ikebukuro legend,” Yosuke said. “He’s kinda like Kanji used to be, but way more terrifying. There’s videos online of him throwing vending machines one-handed.”

“And you picked a fight with this guy, Chie?” Rise said.

“For the last time, I didn’t pick any fights,” she said. Her protests seemed to fall on deaf ears, as both Yosuke and Chie regarded her with dubious looks. She expected it from Yosuke, but Rise too?

Something Rise had said earlier finally percolated through to the front of Rise’s consciousness.

“Hold on, Rise, you said you almost died too? What happened to you?”

Rise flopped back onto the couch with a theatrical sigh.

“It was like something out of a movie!” she said. Which said a lot in and of itself, coming from someone who had her own movie. “Another idol burst into my dressing room to hide from these goons chasing her, so I jumped into the TV world with her to lose them. And get this.” She leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“You’re not going to like this next part, Chie,” Yosuke said. “Fair warning.”

“I scanned her with my Persona, and she _wasn’t human_. Not completely, anyways.”

Chie’s eyes bulged.

“Whaaaaaat?” she said, knowing and hating the squeak in her voice.

“You mean, like a Shadow? But how can she be part Shadow?”

Rise shuddered, as though a cold gust of wind had knifed through the room. The window itself, however, remained firmly closed, and what’s more, it was August.

“She’s a _vampire_ ,” Rise whispered.

Chie found herself scooting backwards until her back met the reassuring presence of the wall.

“No way,” she said. “That’s gotta be a joke, right?”

“That’s what the girl says she is, anyways,” Yosuke said. “But I have to admit, after talking to sentient killer teenage girl robots, I’m ready to keep an open mind.”

“She was serious,” Rise said. “I don’t think that girl’s capable of being anything but serious. She’s totally scary.”

“Sheesh, Ikebukuro is crazy,” Chie said. “I’m glad you didn’t get kidnapped, Rise. Do you want me to help you file a police report?”

“That’s OK,” Rise said. “Ruri doesn’t seem to want to the attention, and these guys aren’t after me. There’s no need to make a public fuss over things.” She appeared to consider it for a moment. “Unless Mr. Inoue thinks it’d be good for my image, anyways.”

Chie admired Rise’s ability to discuss the whole affair in such a blasé tone. You’d think she had watched a TV special about the events, not lived through them. Celebrities really were something else.

“Hey, do you think this could have something to do with the Phantom Thieves?” Yosuke asked.

A thoughtful look crossed Rise’s face. “Huh, maybe…”

“Hold on a sec, Yosuke,” Chie said. “Why would this have anything to do with the Phantom Thieves?”

Yosuke looked at Chie as though she’d just calmly asked the color of the sky.

“You mean you haven’t heard? They’re here in Ikebukuro! Apparently they’re after that Orihara guy.”

Chie’s jaw dropped. “No way. They’re going after Izaya?”

Rise looked from Chie to Yosuke. She frowned. “How am I the only one who doesn’t know about all these people?” she said.

“Oh, it’s just ‘cause he’s a big player in the underworld around here,” Chie said. “I’ve heard tons of rumors about him at the academy.”

“And I helped Naoto with a case here a while back,” Yosuke said. “His name came up. Like, a lot. Not a nice dude.”

“Awwww, you guys have all the fun,” Rise said with a pout.

Yosuke snorted. “Rise, you’re a nationally famous celebrity.”

“C’mon, that doesn’t count. That’s just my job, Yosuke!”

Chie almost found herself nodding in agreement before she snapped back to her senses. Rise had that kind of effect on people.

“How’d you guys know the Phantom Thieves were in Ikebukuro, anyways?” she said. The Phantom Thieves were a household name nowadays after the Medjed incident, but she hadn’t heard anything about them appearing in her neighborhood.

“It’s all over the net, Chie,” Yosuke said. “Check your phone.”

“I can’t!” Chie said. “I’ve got this stupid app that’s been hogging my screen all day. I don’t even remember downloading it, but it won’t go away.”

She pulled out her phone again, hoping that the dumb app might’ve just uninstalled itself already. But of course, there it was, still freezing out her phone. Just what was a “Metaverse Navigator”, anyways? It couldn’t even navigate. She’d tried!

“They posted a calling card and everything,” Yosuke said. “Here, I’ll read it for you.” He thumbed at his phone and began to read.

“Sir Izaya Orihara, the utterly arrogant avatar of pride! Too long have you forced human beings to move like pieces on a game board for your amusement, feeding yourself sick delusions of grandeur. Humans should make their own fate, not exist at your whim. The Phantom Thieves have come here to Ikebukuro to take your heart, Izaya. We will take your distorted desires without fail.”

Chie’s phone chimed. She looked down in surprise. The Metaverse Navigator, still occupying the whole of her screen, had begun to pulsate with a baleful red. “Coordinates accepted,” it said in calm, electronic tones.

“Quit messing with your phone, Chie!” Yosuke said, annoyed. “Were you even listening?”

“Lay off!” she said. “I didn’t even touch it. It’s this stupid app!”

“That calling card was kinda cheesy, don’t you think?” Rise said. Her lips quirked into a bemused smile. “Are we supposed to think it’s funny?”

“No way,” Chie said. “The Phantom Thieves are totally cool!”

“Aren’t you going to be a cop, Chie?” Yosuke said. “Are you allowed to support criminals?”

“So what?” Chie said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t like them! Akechi can bite me.”

“I never liked Akechi,” Rise said. “He’s way too nice. And he stole Naoto’s title, that jerk! I bet she’s a way better detective than he is.”

“But she did outgrow the title, in more ways than one,” Yosuke said with a wink. “Anyways, I like them too. They don’t seem so different from what we did back in Inaba.”

“Exactly!” Chie said with a smile. “Now you’re getting it. Sometimes, a real hero has to take justice into their own hands.”

“I just hope they don’t come after me,” Rise said with a shudder. “I like my heart the way it is.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Yosuke said. “Hey, I wonder if I can get them to change Teddie’s heart so my dad’ll stop calling me to complain about him.”

Rise snickered at the mention of their wildly eccentric furry friend. Chie was about to laugh as well, when a roil in the corner of her vision tugged at her eye.

Chie’s phone slipped from her fingertips and thudded onto the soft, thick carpet of the apartment.

“Uh…guys?” she said, her voice strained. “You should look out the window.”

“Huh?” Rise said. She and Yosuke turned toward the clear glass of the window overlooking the street.

Rise gasped.

Beyond the window, the streetlight-suffused dark of night still hung over the ward. However, that gloom was the only sight which remained familiar.

Gone were the towering high-rises, the office buildings, the skyscrapers. Dark shapes loomed crazily in their stead, the gleam of the lights barely serving to illuminate their hulking bases. Under the glare of the lights shone not concrete, or glass, but wood.

“What the hell…” Yosuke said. He looked for the TV at the same time Chie did.

There it was, still squatting on its wooden stand.

Chie knew in her gut that they couldn’t have fallen in, anyways. The outside might look bizarre, but the apartment itself hadn’t changed one bit. Every battered chair, day-old article of clothing, and wuxia DVD sat right where she’d left it.

A voice, clear and sharp, cut through the air.

“Persona!” Rise yelled, cupping her hands before her. A brilliant blue card shimmered into view, describing a glittering line through the air as it dropped into Rise’s palms and burst into a sparkling shower of vivid cerulean blue.

The air behind Rise flicked with color, then resolved into a tall figure clad in an elegant dress. The radiant glory of its garments bathed the entire room in soft white light.

Chie may not have seen the figure in years, but she could never forget.

“Himiko,” she breathed.

Wherever they were, it wasn’t the real world. Himoko’s presence proved that. As her robes billowed in an invisible breeze, Himiko lowered her visor over Rise’s eyes.

“Okay, where the hell are we?” Yosuke said. He stared out the window, his eyes darting back and forth as they searched the dreamscape outside. “I know there’s no way we just fell through a TV halfway across the the room. Even Kanji couldn’t manage that.”

“Quiet for a second, okay?” Rise said. “I’m working on that.”

Chie held back her questions and crossed the room to join Yosuke at the window. The stiffness of his posture seemed to ease somewhat as she stepped up to his side and peered out herself. He nodded at her almost absent-mindedly before the window tugged at his attention once more. 

“Man, I hope she can find something out,” Yosuke said. “We must be in the TV world, right? But how could we have gotten here?”

“Hey, don’t look at me!” Chie said. “You’re asking the wrong girl.”

“You’re right about that,” Yosuke said with a derisive chuckle. Chie briefly debated smacking the smirk off his face, but decided to take the high road. Better not to give him the satisfaction.

Behind them, the glow vanished along with Himiko as she dissipated into the ether. Rise shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, then turned to face them. Her eyes sparkled with determination.

“It’s not the TV world,” she said.

“But you can summon your Persona!” Chie said. “How can it not be the TV world?”

“Well, we know that there’s other places out there where you can summon a Persona,” Yosuke said. “Don’t you remember Mitsuru and those guys talking about that ‘Dark Hour’?”

Rise nodded.

“I can’t really tell, but I think it’s something like that,” she said. A shadow passed over her face. “I can’t make an exit TV, either. I think we’re stuck in here.”

“We’re trapped?” Chie said. “And how did we get in here, anyway?”

Rise shrugged. “I wish I knew,” she said. “Sorry, guys. We’ll have to explore the area and see what we can find.”

Yosuke looked back out the window, a grimace on his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then sighed. “Let’s get out there, then,” he said. “I wish Yu was here.”

“Hey, that’s my line!” Rise said.

“C’mon, guys, we can do this!” Chie said. She laughed. “I mean, we can’t always rely on Yu for everything, right?”

“Yeah!” Rise said. She broke into a smile. “We’re just looking, anyways. Once we figure out how to get out, we’ll come back with the whole team and take care of whatever’s going on here.”

Yosuke cracked his knuckles, his shoulders set with renewed confidence.

“A partner’s gotta pull his own weight sometimes, right?” he said. “Lead the way, Rise.”

Rise’s hand flew to her mouth with a giggle as her eyes danced with impish delight.

“I’m the leader, huh? Eat your heart out, Yu!”

Chie smiled. She’d learned more from Yu than she would probably ever fully appreciate, but one lesson she had taken to heart was that sometimes, you needed to be the one to remind your friends what they were capable of.

They followed Rise out towards the stairwell.


	8. Chie's Story - Part Two

Chie pushed her way through the apartment doors and onto the street. Yosuke probably thought she hadn’t noticed him slowing down half a step to let her go first. She grinned. Taking point suited her just fine, anyways. They might as well be on the same page about it.

As the toe of her shoe hit the sidewalk, the impossible sight above Chie drew her gaze upwards. The concrete-and-glass apartment towers of the neighborhood had vanished. In their place spiraled up hulking columns of carven wood, straining for the sky even as they curved in over the street far above. A look back over her shoulder revealed that even the building they’d just come from, while seemingly still their boring old apartment tower on the inside, had transformed into an intricately whorled mass of stained wood which bore more than a passing resemblance to some kind of game piece. Twilight clung to the spires, masking their peaks in an impenetrable gloom. Somehow, the dark seemed to pulse with ugly menace.

“There’s no way Shadows aren’t involved in this somehow,” Yosuke said. “Just look at this place!”

“Seriously,” Chie said. “Rise, I believe you, but you are totally sure this isn’t the TV world, right?”

Rise eased the door shut with the faintest of clicks and nodded.

“It isn’t!” she said. “Gee, guys, don’t you believe me? I can’t explain, but the feeling it gives me is just a little different.”

“Okay, okay, it’s not the TV world,” Yosuke said. “So where is it, then?” He glanced up at the buildings with a grimace. “Or should I be asking, what is it?”

Rise frowned. “I need more information,” she said. “Sorry, guys. I wish I could tell you more.”

“That’s OK,” Chie said. “We’ll just get exploring!”

Yosuke groaned.

“Don’t be so gung-ho, okay?” he said. “You’re creeping me out.”

Never one to wait before flinging a retort to one of Yosuke’s immature barbs, Chie nonetheless found herself at a loss for words. It wasn’t what Yosuke had said that put her off guard, though - it was what he was wearing.

“Yosuke…”

“What?”

“What happened to your clothes?”

“My clothes?!”

Yosuke yelped in panic before reflexively grabbing at his pants and reassuring himself that he was, in fact, still fully clothed. That wasn’t what Chie had meant.

Yosuke’s rumpled, ill-fitting salaryman suit was gone. He now stood draped in swoops and folds of strikingly colored fabric, his face covered in a similarly stylized mask. The whole ensemble unmistakably suggested just one thing.

Chie started giggling. She couldn’t help herself. Behind her, she heard Rise choke back a laugh.

“You look like a henshin hero!” Chie said, snorting with laughter. “How’d you do that? You look ridiculous!”

Yosuke folded his arms over the embellished “Y” emblazoned on his chest and glared. “Hey, it wasn’t me!” he protested. “This place must have done it!”

Chie slid only further into fits of laughter.

“Nice one, Captain Ressentiment!” she said. “Oh man, this is great!”

Yosuke’s reply was dry enough to be used as kindling.

“You might want to look in a mirror, Chie,” he said.

“Huh?” Chie said. She didn’t feel any different. She looked down, and immediately felt herself flush bright red. 

Instead of her fraying sweats, she now wore a yellow-orange martial arts robe. Stylistically, it looked as though the outfits of one of her favorite heroes after another had been superimposed upon each other to form some manner of vaguely generic composite.

It also clung just a little bit too tight in several places. Chie tugged at the fabric. What was up with that, anyways? An unfamiliar weight on her face prompted her to grasp at it. A mask now rested snugly on her face. She couldn’t see it, of course, but it seemed to curve into a reptilian snarl over her nose.

“Wow, Chie, you look cool!” Rise said. “And you too, Yosuke. Even if it is a little dorky.” She winked.

“Gee, thanks,” Yosuke said, but he didn’t look entirely displeased.

“Hey, Rise, you’ve got one too!” Chie said.

Sapphire silks and pale blue gauze draped Rise’s slender frame. She practically glimmered under the streetlamps in the enveloping gloom. It was an outfit every bit as effervescent as her personality. Her eyes glittered from behind the European masquerade mask which hid her face.

Rise twisted around under the streetlights, craning her neck to see the whole costume. She giggled. “Hey, it’s totally like being on set! I wonder what Yu’s would look like.”

“Man, probably something really cool,” Yosuke said. He looked at himself again, then sighed.

Chie had to agree, though she could also picture their former leader standing as unflappable as always in something completely ridiculous. After the “Miss” Yasogami High contest, nothing would surprise her.

Rise splayed out a silk-adorned hand and examined her garments with a keen gaze.

“Even the Midnight Stage didn’t give us outfits,” she said. “This place just keeps getting weirder.” She turned to Yosuke and Chie. “I’m gonna do another sweep now that we’re down on the street. Sit tight for a sec, OK?”

Rise retreated a few feet down the road and called out for Himiko once more. With Rise’s scanning humming in the background, Chie squatted on the balls of her feet and gazed up at the surreal structures which clawed up through the gloom overhead.

“Whatever world this is, it’s nuts,” Yosuke said as he sat on the pavement next to her. He flipped the garish scarf wound around his neck out of the way with an irritated grunt, then looked up at the sky as well. “I hate to say it, but doesn’t this look kind of like-”

“Adachi’s Inaba,” Chie said. She frowned, unable to keep the worry off her face. “I was thinking the same thing. But it must be a coincidence, right? Rise said this wasn’t the TV World. And we know that he’s given up on all that crap.”

“Don’t look at me,” Yosuke said. “I almost wish it was the TV World. At least then we’d know what we’re dealing with.”

“No argument there,” Chie said. “Still, any place that gave me an outfit this cool can’t be _that_ bad!”

“Yeah, I don’t know if ‘cool’ is the right word, Chie,” Yosuke said with a disdainful glance.

Chie made sure to smile extra wide, just to get under his skin. “Hey, Yosuke, yours isn’t _that_ bad. You don’t need to be jealous.”

“Hah, as if!”

Before Chie could launch her next barb, Rise dismissed Himiko and rejoined them, her brow creased with worry.

“We’re not alone in here, guys,” she said, her expression serious. Chie jolted at the words, but Yosuke broke in first.

“What?!” he said. “Is it Shadows?”

“I’m sensing some,” Rise said. “But I’m also sensing something else. I’m not certain, but it feels like Persona users.”

“No way!” Chie said. “It couldn’t be anyone we know, right?”

Rise shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” she said. “The reading’s faint, like a bad connection on a phone call. I can’t get a clear picture. But it feels like they’re fighting a really big Shadow.”

“That could be Yu, or the others!” Yosuke said, his brow furrowed behind his mask. “If we got pulled in here randomly, whoever did it could’ve gotten them too. We need to get over there!”

“Yeah!” Chie said. “Or it could be Mitsuru and the Shadow Operatives. I think I saw on the news that she’s in Tokyo for a major conference this week.”

“Either way, I agree we need to go help,” Rise said. “I’ll lead the way. It’s right over there!” She pointed to what appeared to be an empty expanse of sky yawning between two squat wooden towers.

Chie squinted at one patch of sky which seemed slightly darker than the rest. Looking closer, the faintest outline of a tower seemed to fade into view, onyx-black against the drifting miasma beyond.

“There is _definitely_ something wrong with that place,” Chie said. “C’mon, let’s get over there! There’s no time to waste!”

Rise pulled first her right leg, then her left into a quick stretch. “See if you can keep up, Chie! Don’t take all that training I’ve been doing for my new tour lightly.” She winked.

“Ooooh, you’re on!” Chie said. “Once we’re in sight of the entrance, it’s a race!”

Yosuke groaned.

* * * * *

After several minutes of racing through the streets, the group had burst through the doors of the building and clattered down a staircase. They now stood at the mouth of a vast underground atrium. Chie noted, with more than a little satisfaction, that Yosuke’s breaths were coming much harder than hers. Somebody clearly hadn’t been keeping up with their training regimen.

Before them, the muddy darkness of the ceiling arced over a veritable labyrinth of flowing, carven wood. Game pieces of all shapes and sizes stood shoulder-to-shoulder in serried ranks, forming walls which tangled around each other before stretching off into the darkness. Just looking at the maze in front of them made Chie’s head hurt.

“Great,” Yosuke said. “How are we gonna get through this?”

“Oh man, I don’t even know where to start!” Chie said.

“Himiko!”

The elegant robed Persona flowed into existence once more. Her radar dish panned back and forth for a few moments, then halted as she vanished into the air.

“Got it,” Rise said. “They’re in trouble. C’mon, guys, follow me!”

They sprinted through the maze as fast as their legs could carry them, ducking down turns or seemingly doubling back at Rise’s order. After a few minutes of pell-mell rushing, the path ahead opened up into wide-open space. They’d found the exit.

Chie overtook Rise as they burst out onto what was unmistakably a carven game board, with deep black lines grooved in the golden-brown wood. The board itself was immense, easily the size of a full city block. An immense onyx-black chess king towered over Chie to her right.

Beyond the king, a battle raged.

Gouts of flame and crackles of lightning backlit a grotesque arachnoid mockery of the human form. At least fifteen feet tall, it had half a dozen many-jointed limbs, which clacked and whirled as it lunged forward. The figures at its feet, half a dozen people in various costumes, leapt out of the way or summoned what could only be Personas to meet the monster head-on.

“That Shadow’s huge!” Yosuke gasped between strained breaths from a half-stride behind Chie. “Hey, do you think they’re the Phantom Thieves? Is that Orihara’s Shadow?”

“None of that matters right now!” Chie said as she poured everything she had into the sprint. “We gotta help them!”

“C’mon, we’re almost there!” Rise said.

Chie threw an arm in front of her eyes as an actinic blue flash rocked the Shadow back. Overhead, green light strobed behind an object which darted to and fro under the cavern roof.

“That’s a UFO, right?” Yosuke said, his voice cracking. “I’m not going nuts?”

“It’s a Persona!” Rise said.

“What planet are these guys from?” Yosuke said.

They were only meters from the battle now, yet the combatants remained unaware of their presence. Closest to Chie was a girl in a brilliant red latex catsuit. Chie’s eyes flicked to the right to track the motion of one of the Shadow’s barbed arms as it swept towards the girl from the side. The girl hadn’t noticed; she’d never dodge in time.

Chie hurtled across the last of the ground separating them, shouting a single word as she went.

 


	9. Futaba's Story

Futaba zoomed Necronomicon into a headlong dive, knowing she’d never make it in time.

“Panther, dodge!” she screamed over the Thieves’ voice link.

Ann tried to twist out of the way, but the Shadow swung the blow to match. Futaba wanted to shut her eyes, but couldn’t tear them away. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

A blur of yellow cloth and blue light streaked to meet the cruel slash of the jagged limb.

Ann yelped, collapsed onto her rear, and shielded her face with her arms as a Persona caught the blow in both hands. Futaba’s jaw dropped as the muscular, banana-yellow Persona stood firm under the force of the strike. As a short-haired girl in a yellow-orange kung-fu uniform craned over Ann, another flash of blue streaked past and resolved into a second Persona, this one vaguely frog-like in an undeniably ungainly way, which severed the leg in a single blow. The severed portion bubbled into sludge in the yellow Persona’s hands as the stump of the leg flailed backwards, the monstrous Shadow hissing in agony. Its malformed head spat half-intelligible invective.

A long-haired woman in gauzy silks and a man in something approximating a superhero costume ran to join the kung-fu girl as she checked Ann for injuries. Based on their clothes, all had to be Persona users. Futaba ruthlessly suppressed any twinges of jealousy at the man’s outfit. Goggles were cool too, she reminded herself.

Inari and Mona leapt forward to press home the opening the newcomers had created. The rest of the Thieves stared on in surprise as the short-haired girl hauled Ann back to her feet.

“Be careful, okay?” the girl said. “That thing almost got you.”

While hardly an expert on the niceties of social interaction, even Futaba could tell that Ann seemed lost for words. Fortunately, that’s why they had Joker.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, “but who exactly are you?”

“Oh!” the kung-fu girl said. “I’m Ch-” Her voice abruptly cut off as the man elbowed her in the ribs. She whirled on him and hissed a rejoinder under her breath. Futaba snickered. They could whisper all they want, but it wouldn’t get past Necronomicon. She tuned in.

“What the hell, Yosuke?!”

“We’ve all got masks for a reason!” he said with a furtive glance in the Phantom Thieves’ general direction. For some reason, his gaze lingered on Necronomicon in particular. “Don’t just give out our names!”

“Jeez, don’t be such a jerk about it!”

The silk-clad woman pushed in between them. Her face split into a beaming smile as she spoke to Joker.

“We fight Shadows too,” she said. “We can work out the details later, ‘kay? We’re here to help.”

Ryuji shrugged.

“You don’t hafta tell me twice,” he said. “Let’s go kick this creep’s ass.”

Skull always had such a blunt way of putting things.

“What are your abilities?” Makoto asked. “If we’re going to fight as a team, we’ll need to know what you can do.”

The silken girl spoke up first.

“I do support and navigation,” she said. As Futaba hovered closer, the girl somehow locked eyes with her straight through Necronomicon. “Don’t worry, I won’t step on your navigator’s toes,” she said with a wink.

Futaba already disliked her.

The woman gestured at her companions.

“She’s got an ice persona, and his uses wind. We’ve been doing this for a while, so don’t worry about us.”

“As you say,” Makoto said. “Let’s get to it.”

As she’d somehow missed a vital issue, Futaba opened a public commlink.

“Codenames!” she said. “You guys don’t have any, so I’m gonna give you some. You’re Kung-Fu, you’re Masquerade, and you’re Captain. Done!” She cut the channel. The sentai-looking man twitched at the mention of his codename, but stayed silent behind his mask. Futaba shrugged. Not her problem.

Joker nodded in Futaba’s direction. She could have sworn she saw his lips quirk into the ghost of a smirk. Hers, she didn’t bother to hide.

With a wave of his hand and a whoosh of his cape, Joker spun on his heel and faced the monster. As he did, the air behind him exploded into the elegant form of Arsene. Makoto, Ann, and Ryuji fell in behind him, while Kung-Fu and Captain stood together, slightly off to the side.

“We’ll follow your lead,” Captain said to Joker, who nodded in return. Masquerade hung back and cupped her hands, forming a receptacle for a blue tarot card which dropped into them and burst apart. A Persona appeared behind Masquerade, a slender, tall figure with feminine curves and an antenna array which rotated in place of a head. Okay, an antenna might look well-suited to navigation, but Futaba knew Necronomicon was still way cooler.

A dozen meters away, the Izaya monster-thing swept a blow into Yusuke’s stomach. He folded over the arm like a hinge. With a disdainful glare and a derisive cackle, the monster effortlessly flicked Yusuke into the air. He tumbled end-over-end before slamming into the stained wood of the game board and skidding to an ungainly halt in front of Joker. Futaba winced. Even Inari didn’t deserve that.

Once more, Kung-Fu was there to help a Phantom Thief to their feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “That looked like a nasty hit.”

Yusuke blinked his eyes open. His nod, when it came, was somewhat strained.Johanna roared into existence under Makoto and bathed Yusuke in healing light.

Morgana leapt back to join them. “Whoever you guys are, make sure to stay on your toes. This Shadow is strong!”

Futaba saw Masquerade’s lips moving, most likely in a private message to her friends, and spliced into the channel.

“So theirs is a cat, huh?” Masquerade said.

“If it makes a meow pun, I’m taking Jiraya and leaving,” Captain said.

“His name is Mona,” Futaba said. “He’s very touchy about cat stuff, so don’t call him one!”

“Hey, no eavesdropping!” Masquerade said. “This is private!”

Futaba felt Masquerade sever her splice into the conversation. Some people had no manners.

“Let’s take him,” Joker said, and charged.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Futaba could tell the fight wasn’t going well.

At first, it had seemed like the addition of the mysterious new group of Persona users would be enough to overpower Shadow Izaya and win the day. If anything, however, his ferocity had redoubled to meet the reinforcements. To make matters worse, he’d also begun to summon allies, bogging the Thieves down in waves of relentless foes.

Skull and Kung-Fu had been cut off from the others by a teeming gaggle of Shadows. These Shadows wore human form, appearing as youths toting knives and lengths of steel pipe. Some wore scraps of blue or yellow cloth fastened around one arm or tied over their forehead, while other sported no colors at all.

Sparks flew as Skull clashed pipes with one of the Shadow thugs, then beat him down to the ground with a brutal backhand. Behind him, Kung-Fu moved like a tornado given human form. With at least a dozen thugs strewn in her wake, she wove through blows from three opponents in turn, sweeping their legs or catching them in the solar plexus with whirlwind kicks. For every Shadow who went down, however, two more seemed to take their place, and the beleaguered duo were swept further and further away from their allies.

On the other side of the surging press, Fox parried a keenly-aimed thrust from a teenaged girl in a school uniform. The girl’s innocuous appearance belied her vicious competence with her blade, which seemed to slice the air itself in twain as she lashed out once more. Her blade caught on Fox’s with a harsh rasp. Though he had met the blow, he yielded a step in the process, lurching back as he blocked. Without missing a beat, the schoolgirl flowed into her next attack. Her irises glowed a lambent yellow.

The rest of the Thieves and their new allies remained locked in mortal combat with Shadow Izaya himself. They were flagging, however, while Izaya’s reservoirs of energy seemed infinite. Captain barely twisted out of the way of a blow he’d have dodged effortlessly ten minutes ago, with his Persona’s riposte swatted away by another arachnid arm.

Izaya laughed, all eight of the eyes on his distorted face fixed firmly on Joker. Futaba flinched at the sight. This guy was way more gruesome than anything she’d seen in her Palace.

“You’re finished!” the Shadow cackled, its voice echoing as though speaking from multiple mouths. “You imbeciles really thought you could stop me from loving humanity? What a joke!”

Panther, Mona, and Queen stood besides Joker as Isis burst forth and unleashed a torrent of flame. Carmen added her strength to the fire, while the others called up another shower of healing magic.

The fire hurtled against Izaya, then dissipated with no evident effect on the monstrosity. Futaba’s heart sank. How were they possibly going to win? He was just too strong.

“Now, die, you worthless scum!” he howled. Grasping tendrils of sickly red energy erupted from the ground and rushed for the five facing him down. Futaba pounded Necronomicon’s console in frustration as she registered the strength of the attack. Dammit, she had to be able to do something. She watched on in mute horror as the tendrils crested over the group like a looming tidal wave, ready to sweep them all away.

“No!” came a shout from the rear. Futaba whirled to see Masquerade glowing with power. Golden light from her Persona suffused the game board with warmth.

A glowing simulacrum of Masquerade shone into view before the party and raised her hands against the wave, erecting a shield of brilliant golden energy.As Futaba looked on in awe, the blood-red wave dashed itself against the barrier with futile rage and faded away into the ether, followed by the image of Masquerade.

Masquerade herself slumped first to one knee, then to both, her Persona gone. Whatever she had done, she didn’t seem able to do it again.

The Shadow of Izaya snarled. “That won’t change a thing, you brats!”

This was it, Futaba realized. They had to bring him down now or never, while they still had energy left to fight. She opened a commlink to everyone.

“I’m gonna give you guys all the buffs I’ve got left, so make it count!” she said. “You better not wipe!”

She darted Necronomicon high into the air over the battlefield, punching every button within her reach on the console. Her eyelids drooped and her limbs grew heavy as her energy flowed out of her body and into her Persona. Multicolored lights of every description strobed forth from Necronomicon’s underbelly and bathed all of her friends and allies, transferring Futaba’s energy to them. 

As Futaba’s eyelids sagged, so did Necronomicon. It tilted into a dive, flickered, then vanished entirely along with her last reserves of energy just a few feet from the ground. Futaba slammed into the wooden floor shoulder-first and tumbled to a stop a meter and a half away.

“Ow…” she groaned, trying to ignore the throbbing pain as she forced her deadened limbs to prop her up on one elbow. Before her, the Thieves and Captain unleashed their final assault on Izaya.

The air crackled with energy as their attacks flared out to meet him. The ferocious blows hammered him back first one step, then another. Despite their force, however, he remained on his feet.

“This isn’t enough!” Makoto said, as the Shadow laughed and forced its way forward once more. Futaba felt tears welling up behind her eyes. Her first heist, and she’d failed them. She’d never find out the truth behind her mom’s death.

Suddenly, an unearthly whinny echoed through the air. Despite the yells of the Shadows and the mad laughter of Izaya himself, the whinny chilled Futaba straight to the bone, as though an unseen spirit had whispered it directly into her ear. 

Izaya’s head whipped around to confront the whinny’s source.

“You!” he snarled. Futaba flopped herself over to her other elbow, and witnessed the Black Rider itself tear across the game board, no more than a meter or two from her face.

Vines of inky-black darkness surged from the Rider’s motorcycle and wrapped themselves around the limbs of Izaya’s Shadow, stringing him in a web between a stack of human-sized shogi pieces and a colossal ivory chess castle. As the Rider shot past the web and curved around behind it, a ripple of darkness in its right hand shot out into a tremendous scythe, its wickedly-curved edge gleaming midnight-black in the red glow of Carmen’s flames.

As the Shadow hissed and writhed in an attempt to tear free from the web, the very ground itself rumbled with a bellow of unrestrained primal fury.

“IZAAAAAAYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

A tall man with bleach-blond hair stormed across the room towards them, raging as he went. His blond hair wasn’t what most shocked Futaba, though, nor even the immaculately-pressed bartender outfit he wore.

No, what was most shocking was the fifteen-foot-tall, onyx-black chess king that he carried in both hands with no more apparent effort than Futaba might have expended lifting a book.

The man hefted the chess piece like a colossal lance.

“I’ll send you straight to hell, you bastard!” he roared, and charged.

The Phantom Thieves scattered out of the bartender’s way as he sprinted into a flying leap and rammed the razor-sharp angled crucifix at the head of the piece through the Shadow’s chest, like driving a telephone pole-sized stake through the heart of the world’s largest vampire.

As Futaba’s mind made a gallant effort to process the events of the last thirty seconds, the Shadow howled in agony, then fell limp as a rag in the Black Rider’s web. The Rider circled back around the web, and glided to a stop at the bartender’s side without so much as a noise. Their web retracted from the Shadow and shot back into the black leather of the Rider’s suit. As its support vanished, the Shadow sagged to the ground, its body beginning to spark with consuming embers of white light.

With the Shadow’s defeat, the allies which it had summoned rippled back into the air, disappearing without a trace. As Inari, Skull, and Kung-Fu sprinted back towards the group, Masquerade rushed up and knelt at Futaba’s side.

“Hey, are you okay?” Masquerade asked.

“C’mon, help me up already!” Futaba said.

After a few moments of fussing and a surprisingly strong grip, Masquerade had Futaba back on her feet, and the two of them hobbled over to the rest of the group. As they went, Masquerade’s gaze seemed fixed on the Rider.

“Celty?” she murmured.

The Thieves and Masquerade’s friends stood clustered together, with the bartender and the Black Rider off to one side. Between them, the last remnants of Izaya’s shadow disappeared in sparkling effervescence. Where it had once stood, there now lay a small wooden game board, a normal-sized version of the sprawling monstrosity on which they now stood. Joker quickly stooped and snatched up the Treasure.

“The hell’s going on here?” the bartender asked. He cast a dubious glare at the group over his sunglasses.

“It’s…tough to explain,” Queen said.

“Don’t give me that crap,” he said with a growl. “I’m not stupid, so explain.”

The visceral crunch of splintering wood filled the air. Futaba looked down. A jagged crack had rent the game board at her feet.

Oh, right. That.

“Guys!” she said.

“Huh?” Masquerade said, staring at the crack. “Uh, should that be happening?”

Queen quailed under the bartender’s glower.

“We’re sorry, but there’s a lot-”

The crack splintered further.

“That totally shouldn’t be happening, right?” Masquerade said.

“GUYS!” Futaba yelled. “Run!”

The rest of them noticed the crack all at once. Or, maybe they just noticed that the floor had begun to rumble. Or both.

“Mona!” Joker said.

Mona blanched. “I can’t carry this many people!” he said.

“Hold on, he’s going to carry people?” Captain said. “How is he going to carry people? And why is the floor shaking?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you freaks,” the bartender said. He crossed his arms. “Not without an explanation first, anyways.”

The rumbling grew louder. Futaba didn’t need Necronomicon to tell her that Palace collapse was imminent.

“All of you, quiet!” Queen said. Her eyes flashed. “We need to get out of here, now. Whoever you are, ride out with your friend. You can get an explanation after. Mona, I’ll get out on Johanna. You carry everyone else. Now move!”

Mona gulped. “Roger, Queen!” he said. Smoke billowed, and the Mona-van leapt into existence. Kung-Fu and Captain windmilled backwards in surprise, nearly toppling over. The floor now shook so badly that Futaba could barely stand, even with Masquerade’s support. 

The bartender opened his mouth to object further.

“MOVE!” Queen snapped.

With another whinny from the bike, the Rider hoisted the bartender onto the bike behind it and zoomed away. Johanna flared into existence beneath Queen, and she tore off in pursuit as Skull, Panther, and Inari piled into the Mona-van. After a moment’s hesitation, Kung-Fu and Captain followed.

Joker strode over to them and transferred Futaba’s arm from Masquerade’s shoulder to his. “Nice work, Oracle,” he said. “Time to go.”

“Get me outta here!” she said.

Masquerade swung herself up through the Mona-van’s rear doors, which swung shut behind her. Joker helped Futaba through the side door. She squished onto the middle seat next to Captain.

“Out of the way!” she said.

Joker leapt into the driver’s seat and gripped the wheel.

“Hold on, everyone!” came Mona’s disembodied voice from the seat beneath them.

Captain grimaced. “This is so wrong,” he said.

Joker floored the gas as chunks of the Palace walls tumbled to the ground all around them.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Makoto's Story

Makoto hopped backwards as Ren materialized almost directly on top of her. He nearly dropped the wooden gameboard which he held tucked under one arm. Behind him, another half-dozen figures spilled out into the alley.

“We made it!” Ann said. She broke into a grin. “We actually made it!”

“Ohhhh, I think I’m gonna puke,” Futaba said, her face looking distinctly green.

“That was our narrowest escape yet,” Yusuke said. “You truly are a virtuoso behind the wheel, Joker.”

Makoto started at Yusuke’s deliberate use of Ren’s codename. In the excitement, the presence of the strangers in the alley had completely slipped her mind. Her fingers flew up to her cheek. Of course, her mask was gone, along with everyone else’s.

On the far side of Joker and the cluster of Thieves, all now in their civilian garb, Masquerade and her friends stood blinking in the glow of the streetlights. Without their masks, Makoto gauged their age as somewhere in the early 20s, probably no more than five or six years older than her. Futaba squeaked and darted behind Ren, attempting to conceal as much of her tiny frame as possible.

Makoto jolted as the bartender spoke up. His voice was a looming thunderstorm.

“The hell?” he said. “You’re just a bunch of kids. Except you three.” His brow furrowed as his gaze roved over Masquerade, whose wine-dark hair spilled down past her shoulders. “Don’t I know you from somewhere? What are you doing with these kids?”

Masquerade waved her hands. “I’ve just got one of those faces, you know?” she said. “We’ve never met.”

Anne, who had been staring intently at Masquerade ever since her reappearance, suddenly gasped.

“You’re Risette! Rise Kujikawa!” she said. “I don’t believe it! You’ve got a Persona?”

Makoto couldn’t quite place the name, but judging by Anne’s reaction, this ‘Risette’ had to be some type of celebrity.

“Oh, dammit,” Kujikawa muttered.

“Risette?” Ryuji said. “F’real? Man, I’ve never met a famous celebrity before. Hey, our leader’s got a poster of you in his bedroom!”

Ren quirked a smile. 

Kujikawa gave an awkward half-wave to the Black Rider.

“Hi again,” she said. “That’s the second time you’ve seriously saved me today. Thanks.”

“You two know each other?” the bartender asked the Rider.

The Rider nodded as her fingers flew across the keyboard of her utilitarian PDA. She held the screen up to Kujikawa. In the tight confines of the alley, Makoto could easily make out the message.

_Looked like we came just in time. What on Earth was happening there?_

“It’s no fair if Rise’s the only one whose name gets put out there, so I’m Chie Satonaka,” said the young woman standing at Kujikawa’s shoulder. “Us three are still pretty in the dark ourselves. You’re gonna have to ask these guys.” She thumbed at the Thieves.

The bartender’s gaze shifted to Makoto. At his side, the smooth, reflective mask of the Rider’s visor swiveled in her direction as well. Had they assumed she was the leader just because she was the oldest? Well, the explanation had to come from her now. She couldn’t throw Ren under the bus.

Makoto thought about simply walking away, then sized the two of them up again. No, these weren’t the kind of people you could just walk away from. She took a moment to muster herself. None of this would be easy to explain.

“Before we go any further, we need your assurance that you won’t go to the police with any of this,” she said.

The rider’s fingers flew over the unremarkable PDA in her hands. She held it up to Makoto. For some reason, the PDA quivered as trembles gripped the Rider’s hand.

_I stay as far away from the police as I can. They’ve got a monster!_

“Like I’d have anything to do with the cops,” the bartender said. “That’d be nothing but a pain in my ass.”

Makoto shot a furtive look to Ren. He met her gaze, and inclined his head in the faintest of nods.

“Very well,” Makoto said. “We’re the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. We inserted ourselves into Izaya’s cognitive world in order to change his corrupted heart. What you saw wasn’t the real Izaya. It was a cognitive manifestation of his twisted desires.”

The sandy-haired man next to Rise snapped his fingers. “I knew it! You ARE the Phantom Thieves.”

Satonaka sucked in an eager breath. “I never thought I’d meet you guys!” she said. “You guys rock!”

Ryuji’s grin stretched from ear to ear.

“See, this is what I’m talkin’ about!” he said to Ann. “What’s the point of being famous if you can’t enjoy it a little?”

Morgana prowled past Ann and fixed Ryuji with an irate glare. “Don’t be ridiculous!” he said. “This is a serious breach of our security.”

The bartender’s eyebrows shot up so quickly that Makoto thought they might fly off his forehead entirely.

“That cat just talked,” he said. “First that messed-up Ikebukuro, and now this. Did somebody drug me?”

Morgana’s tail flicked with irritation. “I am not a cat!” he said.

“Look, I’m not going to have an argument with a cat,” the bartender said. “What the hell does ‘changing Izaya’s heart’ mean?” He brandished his smartphone. “And did one of you put that app on my phone?”

“You can think of it like switching his conscience back on,” Makoto said. “He’ll realize what he’s being doing is wrong, and confess.”

The bartender growled.

“I was hoping you’d tell me I did kill the real version of that fleabag,” he said. “Putting down a ‘cognitive’ version is nowhere near good enough.”

“The Phantom Thieves do not kill our targets,” Yusuke said. “We dispense justice, not murder.”

“Right on!” Satonaka said, her eyes shining.

The bartender snorted. “You don’t know that insect like I do,” he said. “Crushing’s the only way to deal with him.”

 _So Izaya will stop causing trouble around here?_ Celty typed.

Ren nodded.

“He won’t be watching any more girls step off rooftops,” he said.

The bartender folded his arms. “If it keeps that twerp from showing his face around here, I can’t complain,” he said. “But kids like you shouldn’t be doing stupid shit like this.”

“If we don’t, who’s gonna?” Ryuji said. “There’s way too many assholes out there who think they can just get away with abusin’ people.”

“Someone close to me nearly killed themselves jumping off a roof,” Ann said, her eyes sparking with anger. “No way am I going to overlook victims of monsters like him asking for justice.”

The bartender shifted, his posture softening somewhat. “Guess it’s not my business, anyways,” he said. He looked to Kujikawa. “If Celty says you’re alright, I’ve got no reason to give you any trouble. But if Izaya does show up again, don’t get in my way.”

With that, the bartender slid his hands into his pockets and sauntered off down the alley, rejoining the flow of foot traffic along the main road.

Makoto let out a tense breath as his back shrank. Resisting the inexorable waves of menace flooding off of him had been far easier in the Metaverse with her Persona at her side. Something about that man screamed danger. Could he have been the one Futaba had mentioned back at Russia Sushi?

And that was to say nothing of the Black Rider, who had to be a Shadow or something similar themselves. At the very least, they certainly weren’t human. After seeing the Metaverse, Makoto had thought that nothing in the real world could ever seem strange by comparison, but the oddities of Ikebukuro put the Metaverse to shame.

The Black Rider typed out another message.

_It looks like you guys have things under control, so I’m going to take off. Be careful out there._

“I owe you a major favor,” Kujikawa said. “Look me up if there’s ever anything I can do for you.”

The Rider nodded, then mounted their bike and whirled away down the alley without so much as a whisper. As Makoto watched the bike glide away silently over the concrete, a chill tickled at her spine. She thanked their luck that the Rider had turned out to be on their side.

With the other group of interlopers gone, the Thieves turned their attention back to the mysterious new Persona users.

“All of you seem to recognize the name ‘Risette’, but I’ve never heard it,” Yusuke said. “Who are you, exactly?”

“What?” Ryuji said. “Dude, she’s only like one of the hottest idols in the whole country right now. How big a rock have you been living under?”

“Try reading the news sometime, Inari,” Futaba said.

Kujikawa laughed. “Honestly, it’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t already know who I am,” she said. She smiled at Ren. “But I always like to meet my fans, too!”

Ren’s lips crooked into a smile of his own, and he inclined his head in a slight nod.

The sandy-haired man with Kujikawa spoke up suddenly.

“Hey, you’re the kids from Russia Sushi! You did have a cat! Looks like I’m not crazy after all.”

Had he been at Russia Sushi? Makoto racked her memories of the meal, but with how eye-poppingly unusual the decor and staff had been, she simply couldn’t remember this man. She resolved to do better next time. As Sae often told her, you never knew which details of a scene might turn out to be important.

“Wait a minute, you’re that perv from the bar who was creepin’ on the girls!” Ryuji said. He took a rather aggressive step towards the man.“Whaddya have to say for yourself?”

“Dude, don’t lump me in with those creepy old guys,” the man said, a pained expression on his face. “I thought I saw a cat in a bag eating sushi in the middle of a restaurant, so I did a double take. You would’ve too.”

As explanations went, it was plausible enough to Makoto. After all, she’d stared too the first time she saw Ren carrying Morgana through school in that bag. She had never understood how other students hadn’t noticed. Maybe they had smartphones to thank for the distraction.

Ryuji didn’t seem entirely convinced, so Kujikawa spoke up.

“I’ll vouch for him on this one. He’s no perv. He _does_ need to work on his love life, though.”

“Rise,” the man sighed, “is now really the time?”

“Alright, fine,” Ryuji said. “Sorry for yellin’ at you.”

“Water under the bridge,” the man said. “My boss does it fifty times a day, so I’m already too dead inside for it to leave a mark.”

Makoto looked back over her shoulder, at the way the Black Rider and the bartender had gone. The main street still bustled with foot traffic, and more than one of the pedestrians lingered to cast a suspicious eye at the gaggle of young adults seemingly plotting mischief in the alley. Of course, they had no way of knowing that this time, their suspicions were well-founded.

“We seem to be attracting some attention,” Makoto said. “Perhaps we should get off the streets?”

“She’s right, Rise,” the brown-haired man said. “I don’t think I can take another talk with Yu about maintaining your public image. Man, it’s like disappointing my parents.”

“We’ve all still got questions, so why don’t you come back to our place?” Satonaka said. “”We can explain everything there.”

The Thieves exchanged glances. None appeared opposed to the idea. Makoto’s natural reticence to take strangers into the group’s confidence warred with her keen need to know just who these other Persona-users were, and where they’d come from. Even with the addition of Futaba, they still knew far too little about their own powers, to say nothing of the Metaverse as a whole, and Makoto couldn’t pass up a chance to learn more.

By unspoken consensus, they left the decision to Ren. Makoto found it a bit eerie how effectively they’d slipped into that habit. Hopefully he didn’t mind too much.

“We’ll do it,” Ren said.

“Hooray!” Kujikawa said, striking the sort of bubbly pose you’d expect to see on a magazine cover. She seemed like the kind of person who never fully switched off.

“Oooh, I’m dying to hear about you guys!” Satonaka said. She flipped out her phone. “Here’s the address. Let’s go separately so we don’t attract too much attention. We’ll buzz you in once you’re there.”

“I’ll scout ahead,” Morgana said. With a flick of his tail, he prowled off into the street.

“You know, you guys don’t seem surprised that Morgana’s talking,” Ann said. “People are usually way more shocked.” 

“It’s a long story,” the man said. “Let’s just say we have our own furry group member. We’ll give you the details once we meet back up.”

“See you there!” Satonaka said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. The trio hurried off in the opposite direction from Morgana, leaving the Thieves alone in the alley once more.

“The Treasure became this game board, it seems,” Yusuke said. “Rather fitting.” He eyed the wooden square which Ren still held under one arm. “The craftsmanship is exquisite.”

Futaba made a face. “So analog! Lame!”

“D’you think it’ll sell for anything?” Ryuji said. He rubbed his stomach. “I could go for another hot pot.”

“Count me in!” Ann said. She frowned. “It doesn’t have any pieces, though. Will that be a problem?”

Makoto cleared her throat.

“Why don’t we talk about having it appraised later?” she said. “I’d like to ask those three some questions.”

“Me too,” Ann said. “I can’t believe Rise Kujikawa has a Persona!”

“They all know how to use them, too,” Futaba said. “I scanned all of them during the fight. They could punt you through a wall, Ryuji.”

“Man, why’s it always gotta be me in these examples?” he said with a scowl. “They could punt Ann even further than me!”

“That’s right,” Ann said. “Hey, wait a second!”

“Come on, guys,” Ren said. “We can talk about who’s getting punted on the way.”


	11. Ann's Story

After crowding themselves into the apartment, the Phantom Thieves sat, leaned, or in Futaba’s case, squatted, in a semicircle around a battered table in the apartment’s living room. The space would have been small enough with two people, but with the full group of Thieves crammed in, the room practically bulged at the seams. Ann found herself wedged onto a fraying black futon between Makoto and Yusuke. Thankfully, neither seemed to mind an occasional unintentional elbow in the ribs.

The brown-haired man, who had introduced himself as Yosuke Hanamura when answering the door, leaned halfway out of the adjoining kitchen.

“Hey, you guys want some coffee?” he said. “It’s been a long night.”

“Oooh, you gotta let him make it!” Ryuji said, pointing at Ren. “His coffee’ll blow your mind.”

Hanamura eyed Ren, who untangled his legs and stood.

“I work in a coffeeshop,” he said by way of explanation.

Hanamura winked. “Say no more,” he said. “It’ll be a privilege to watch a master at work. I just use the automatic settings, Chie can’t even manage that half the time, and Rise has interns to do the menial labor for her.”

“They won’t let me make it even if I want to,” Kujikawa said with a laugh.

Satonaka stirred from her slouch against the corner wall and cast a baleful glare at Hanamura.

“You start one fire and they never let you live it down,” she muttered under her breath.

Hanamura glanced back over his shoulder at something out of view in the kitchen, then back at Ren.

“Our equipment might not be what you’re used to,” he said. “Apologies in advance.”

Ren waved a hand. “Leave it to me,” he said, and stepped into the kitchen, with Hanamura following.

Ann closed her eyes and sank back into the surprisingly squishy old futon, letting her cares sink away into the fabric. Despite everything, they’d won, and their identities weren’t in danger. She had to call it a success. The rich, sharp aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen as liquid gurgled away in the background. Bending her ear that way, Ann could make out Ren advising Hanamura on the finer points of preparing coffee. She smiled. Their leader really was a remarkably well-rounded guy. 

After a few more moments, Ren and Hanamura bustled out of the kitchen, each carrying a tray of steaming mugs. After distributing the mugs, each folded their legs and dropped into a sit next to the table. Ren slid a saucer in front of Morgana and deftly filled it from his own mug.

Ann blew on her coffee, parting the steam which curled off the mug and rose lazily into the air. Across the table, Futaba’s eyes were closed in blissful rapture as she swigged about half the cup in one go. Ann supposed being the daughter of a cafe owner helped with your tolerance for hot beverages.

Satonaka broke the aromatic silence first.

“I’m just gonna come right out and say it,” she said. “Do you guys know about the TV world?”

“Huh?” Ann said. She watched TV all the time, but that couldn’t be what they were asking, right?

“TV world?” Morgana said.

“Whaddya mean, like reality TV?” Ryuji asked. “What’s that got to do with the Metaverse?”

Hanamura quirked an eyebrow.

“The ‘Metaverse’?” he said.

“The Metaverse is where we all were earlier,” Makoto said. “It’s where we can use our Personas. It seems as though you three experienced it as the ‘TV World’.” She tapped a finger on her chin. “Did you somehow access it through a television?”

Kujikawa nodded, impressed.

“You’re sharp,” she said. “The TV World is where we got our Personas. I’m pretty sure it’s not actually the same as your ‘Metaverse’, though. When I scanned that world earlier with my Persona, I got a totally different feeling.”

“Plus, you jumped into the TV earlier and didn’t sense any of that, right?” Hanamura said. “They’ve got to be two separate places.” He looked troubled. “If Ted’s been holding out on us all this time, I’m gonna kill that bear.”

“You truly leapt through a television?” Yusuke said. “What a singular experience. I should very much like to try it.”

“It gets old pretty quick,” Satonaka said. She rubbed her rear and winced. “And you always wind up breaking your ass on the landing.”

Ryuji cast an eager look at the jet-black flatscreen TV situated to Satonaka’s right.

“Hey, can I jump in?” he said.

“Ryuji!” Ann said. “Don’t be rude!”

“How’m I being rude?” he said, wounded. “I’m just asking!”

“Yeah, I don’t recommend trying with that one,” Hanamura said. “It won’t work. The TV World’s a localized phenomenon. You’ve gotta have a TV from Inaba that’s already connected. Otherwise, you’re just whacking your head into a screen.”

“Speaking of Inaba, we should explain what’s up with us,” Satonaka said. “You guys are the nationally famous vigilantes, so it’s probably more fair if we go first.”

“Inaba,” Makoto said. “Wasn’t that the countryside town where those serial murders occurred several years ago? The Telephone Pole Killer, they called him?”

“Ah, yes,” Yusuke said. “Now that you mention it, I do recall that incident. The method was so unusual that Madarame spoke of it.”

Kujikawa nodded, her face grim.

“That was the one,” she said.

“F’real?” Ryuji said, his eyes wide. “You guys were involved in that? No way! My mom wouldn’t let me go out for a month after those happened.”

“I’m guessing the killer somehow used a Persona to do it?” Makoto said. “As I recall, although he confessed, they were never able to establish a medically valid cause of death.”

“He threw some people into the TV World,” Hanamura said, disgust plain on his face. “Back then, it was full of dangerous Shadows. The Shadows killed them, and then their bodies appeared in the real world. Anyone who got thrown in would appear on this weird TV channel that only appeared at midnight on rainy nights, and then the next foggy day, unless someone rescued them, they’d die in there and show up in the real world.”

Ryuji scowled. “Bastard. I hope you guys kicked his ass.”

“You bet we did,” Satonaka said. “It turned out he was egging on someone else who had Persona abilities to toss people into the TV world to ‘save’ them from the killer, not realizing that it’d end up killing them instead.”

“I was one of the ones who got thrown in,” Kujikawa added. “But Yosuke and Chie, and the rest of our friends, they saved me.”

Hanamura gestured at Ren. “You can use more than one Persona, right?” he asked.

Ren nodded.

“Thought so,” Hanamura said. “Our leader could too. And you’re the leader, right?” He looked intrigued. “Two teams, two leaders, and they’re both the only ones who can use multiple Personas. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“It certainly suggests some kind of link,” Makoto said. She tilted her head towards Ren. “Perhaps you might have some idea?”

Ren mumbled something about a man with a very long nose and a very blue room, but Ann couldn’t begin to understand what he was getting at. As everyone else also looked at Ren like he’d said the moon was made of cheese, she clearly hadn’t been the only one not to get it. That was a relief, since group discussions often gave her the feeling that she was the only one a little behind the curve. Well, Ryuji too, but that was almost worse.

Ren sighed and slumped forward.

“Ask your friend,” he said. “He’ll understand.”

“You said this was years ago, yes?” Yusuke said. “Have you had cause to use your Personas since?”

“Not much,” Kujikawa said. “There was this one time the summer after, where some other idols-”

“Hey, don’t bore them with the details!” Hanamura said, cutting her off. His cheeks flushed, though Ann couldn’t begin to guess why.

“Man, I gotta say, jumping through a TV sounds way cooler than using our dumb app,” Ryuji said. “And a TV station that only appears at midnight? That’s like some kinda manga! Why don’t we have one?”

Satonaka jolted at the mention of the Metaverse Navigator. She scooped her phone off of the nearby windowsill and swiped a finger across it. She frowned. “Hey, where’d it go?” she said. She swiped again, and again. Her frowned deepened.

“You said you guys use an app?” she said to Ryuji. “Was it called the ‘Metaverse Navigator’?”

“That’s it!” Ann said. “Hey, how do you know that?”

“It popped up on my phone earlier, but I had no idea what the heck it was,” Satonaka said. She shook her phone as though it were a defective toy. “But now it’s gone!”

“You must have accidentally triggered entry into the Metaverse,” Morgana said. He leapt up onto the table, threading his way through the maze of steaming cups. “We still don’t know what causes the app to show up on someone’s phone.”

“Mine appeared before I even got my Persona,” Ann said. She thumbed her own phone on. The scarlet eye gazed back at her, still backed by the riot of choppy black lines. “The app hasn’t gone anywhere, though.”

“There’s no way I deleted it!” Satonaka said, looking bemused. “I tried like twenty times earlier, but it wouldn’t go away.”

“How curious,” Yusuke said. “Surely it stands to reason that whichever force causes this application to appear must also be capable of revoking it, however.”

If anyone would know, it was Futaba. That girl knew the science of the Metaverse better than anyone, and had a boutique brain to boot.

“Futaba, did your research say anything about this?” Ann said. She then noticed that there was no Futaba. “Hey, where’d you go?”

Ren mouthed _Over here_ , and pointed behind him. Futaba herself didn’t seem to agree with Ann on the value she brought to the conversation, as she was busy compressing herself into as small a space as physically possible behind the back of Ren’s chair. Her hands gripped the chair’s worn fabric with the desperate force of the socially drowning woman.

“Your friend’s trying to dig a hole in my chair,” Hanamura said drily.

“Meeting new people doesn’t agree with her,” Ren said. He craned his neck over the side of the chair. “Nothing about this in your files, huh?”

Futaba’s disembodied voice issued forth from her concealment.

“That’s right!” she said. “Now lemme be!”

“We don’t bite, you know,” Kujikawa said. She seemed slightly miffed.

Ryuji shook his head, his eyes closed in a look of mournful contemplation.

Futaba just needed some time. Ann knew she’d win that girl over eventually. And if that made Futaba sound like a skittish stray cat, well, the analogy didn’t seem too far off base.

Morgana leapt up on the table around which they all sat and paced over to face Kujikawa. She cooed “Ooh, you’re cute!” and reached for him. Morgana wove around the outstretched hands as though they’d been an attack from a Shadow. 

“Hands off!” he said. “Now, explain why were none of you surprised to meet me.“

Kujikawa, Satonaka, and Hanamura shared a look. Though mostly unreadable, it carried an unmistakable air of mutual suffering. Ann recognized in it the same expression that would shoot across the Thieves’ faces whenever Yusuke had one of his moments.

“There’s no good way to explain this,” Hanamura said, “but one member of our team is a bear.”

In that moment, it was simply impossible for Ann to believe that her ears hadn’t broken down and begun relaying gibberish.

“A…bear?” Ryuji said. “Dude, what?”

“How did you manage to conceal him?” Makoto said, her eyes wide. “Morgana can sneak around easily, but a bear?”

“Now, they did say Inaba lay in the countryside,” Yusuke said. “Things may be different there.”

“Not that different!” Ann said. “You can’t keep a bear in your backyard just because you live in the country!”

“He’s not _that_ kind of bear,” Kujikawa said. Amusement danced across her face. “He was a mascot bear, like you’d see at a big store or a theme park.”

“You guys helped a mascot?” Ryuji said. You could see his mind melting in real time.

“He was a Shadow!” Satonaka said. “We found him in the TV World. And he’s a total pervert, so it’s a good thing he’s not here to embarrass us.”

“He turned himself into a human, too,” Hanamura said. “If you’re ever in Inaba and you see an American-looking guy, run for it.”

Morgana’s ears flicked up. “He turned back to human?”

“More like he grew himself a human body,” Hanamura said, disgust stamped on his face. “Don’t make me relive it, okay?”

“Oh. Never mind.” Morgana’s ears dropped.

Ann knew Ryuji would crack some poorly-timed joke at Morgana’s expense, and naturally, he did just that before she could head him off.

“Don’t look so upset!” he said. “If some bear can make himself human, maybe you can too!”

God, you could depend on Ryuji to always fight like a lunatic in the Metaverse, but you could also depend on him to always put his foot in it in the real world.

Morgana hissed. “I am human, you moron!”

“Guys, not now, okay?” Ann said, struck by a desire not to look like a bunch of squabbling middle schoolers in front of the trio of veteran Persona users.

A sly grin curved across Hanamura’s face.

“Gotta say, the legendary Phantom Thieves are way less intimidating in person,” he said. “And here I thought you’d be a bunch of masters of international espionage.”

“It’s not always like this, I assure you,” Makoto said, a pained expression on her face.

“Oooh, don’t let that jerk wind you up!” Satonaka said. “You guys are heroes!”

“‘Heroes’ is kinda overstating it,” Ann said. “We’re really not that amazing.”

“That’s right,” Ren said, nodding.

“Hey, speak for yourselves!” Morgana said. “I’m the most amazing master thief you’ll ever meet.”

Kujikawa choked back a laugh, but couldn’t keep from dissolving into a fit of the giggles.

“Sorry!” she gasped between breaths. “You’re just too cute!”

Morgana about-faced away from Kujikawa and sulked off to skulk behind Ann. Ann saw Ryuji ogling Kujikawa with a particularly slack-jawed caveman stare and felt like rolling her eyes. Couldn’t he think with his brain forlike five minutes? Ren might have been as cool as they come, but the rest of the boys were _such_ messes. Ann wondered whether the same held true for this other group. Maybe she’d ask Kujikawa about it later.

“I gotta ask, how have you avoided being caught for so long?” Satonaka said. “I’m a student at the police academy, and the rumors say they’ve got half the country looking for you.”

“Teenagers kinda fly under the radar,” Ann said. “We’ve been careful.”

“Yeah, and Miss Prez here squashed the school investigation into us!” Ryuji said. “Pretty underhanded, huh?”

Makoto’s pale face flushed beet-red. “Er,” she said, then fell silent without mustering a response.

“Class president, huh? That would’ve been handy on our team,” Hanamura said. “We didn’t have any third-years.”

Kujikawa shook out the last of her giggles, straightened back up, and flicked a finger at Hanamura.

“That meant you got to be the senpai,” she said. “You enjoyed it, admit it.”

Hanamura shrugged. “You’ve got a point. So, Phantom Thieves, what’s next for you guys?”

Ren didn’t need even a moment to think about it.

“We keep changing hearts,” he said. The other Thieves murmured affirmation, and Ann added her voice to the chorus. Even though the fight against Izaya had been way too close for comfort, after helping this many people, how could they stop now?

Satonaka’s smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I knew you’d say that. Man, you guys are something else! You’ve got nothing to worry about from me. Keep kicking bad guy butt!“

“But do it carefully, okay?” Rise said. “Today was way too close for comfort. You could’ve all been killed if we hadn’t shown up.”

“And _we_ could’ve all been killed if that crazy bartender and your friend the Black Rider hadn’t shown up,” Hanamura said drily.

He was right about that, Ann thought. They’d never had a closer call. ‘Twisted’ hadn’t begun to describe what Izaya had been like.

Kujikawa made a dismissive gesture. “Jeez, I’m trying to be the adult here, okay?” she said. “We didn’t have like the entire national police force trying to hunt us down while we fought horrible Shadows, and we still almost died too!” She shuddered at some unseen memory. “Somebody had to say it.”

“Your concern is appreciated, but rest assured we are capable of managing this,” Yusuke said, his fingers folded together.

It’d been four months since the stalking incident, and Ann still hadn’t heard him string together a sentence that didn’t sound carbon-dated.

Morgana poked his black-furred head out from under the table.

“The Phantom Thieves fear no one. We’ll run circles around those cops!” he said. Hanamura hid an amused grin. Hopefully Morgana wouldn’t notice.

“You tell ‘em, Mona!” said Futaba’s disembodied voice. It now sounded as though she had practically wedged herself between the chair and the floor. Ann worried about that girl sometimes. The beach trip had been a success, true, but she still didn’t get nearly enough sun.

Kujikawa studied them, then nodded.

“Okay,” she said. She produced pen and paper, scrabbled on the paper, folded it in one deft motion, and handed it to Ren with a flourish.

“Email me if you guys need some help,” she said. “I mean it, you’d better.”

“Yeah!” Satonaka said, her voice shot through with excitement. “We’ll bring the whole gang. Just say the word!”

“Except maybe Teddie,” Hanamura said. “Trust us, it’s better that way.”

Actually, the idea of a talking mascot bear sounded pretty cute, but Ann supposed they would know better than she would.

“I hope we do get to meet your friends sometime,” she said. “If they’re anything like you, they must be incredible.”

Satonaka’s grin was chipper, with a taunting edge.

“They’re totally amazing, but don’t give Yosuke here a swelled head,” she said. “He’s only a salaryman, after all.”

“And you’re not even a real cop!” Hanamura shot back. Their back-and-forth sniping didn’t carry the caustic edge of real acrimony, though. To Ann, the two of them seemed to wear the bickering like a comfortable old glove. Kujikawa caught Ann’s eye, and somehow knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

“Cute, aren’t they?” she said to Ann with a wink.

Hanamura groaned. “Ugh, don’t give them the wrong idea,” he said.

“You wish, Hanamura!” Satonaka said.

Makoto laughed.

“Perhaps bickering is an essential component of a successful group,” she said. “Ryuji and Morgana certainly fill the part for us.”

Ann had to agree with that.

Ryuji scratched his head.

“Uh, should I be offended?” he asked.

“Dude, if you have to ask..” Hanamura said.

A lightbulb went off in Satonaka’s head, and she clapped her hands together.

“You should come visit Inaba sometime!” she said eagerly. “Our friend Yukiko runs this amazing inn, the Amagi Inn. It’s totally historic! We’ll get you guys a good rate.”

“Historic, you say?” Yusuke said. He mulled the idea over. “I would love to paint some studies of the countryside. Tell me, what is the nightly charge?”

“Uhhh…” Satonaka said, flummoxed. Ren smiled apologetically. By now, they were all used to patching up Yusuke’s social missteps.

“Jeez, Inari, just look it up!” said the still-hidden Futaba. “You sound like somebody’s grandma.”

“I sound nothing like an elderly woman,” Yusuke said, peeved. “What an absurd statement.”

Oh, Ann definitely had to agree with Makoto. Thankfully, they could always rely on Ren and Makoto to stay above the fray. Ann hated to think of them wading into the back-and-forth. The wounds from her verbal knife-fight with Makoto-not her proudest moment, but she’d apologized-still smarted, and Ren was the kind of guy who could lay somebody open to the bone in a single sentence. She’d bet that the leader of Kujikawa’s group could do the same.

“Forget about that, Yusuke, we gotta go!” Ryuji said. “Man, I wanna jump through a TV.”

Hanamura grinned.

“Honestly, it _is_ pretty freaking cool the first time,” he said.

“We’ll give you a personal tour of the whole TV world if you come!” Kujikawa said. 

“Oooh, and then Yukiko could say that the Phantom Thieves had stayed at the inn!” Satonaka said.

“Chie, that’s like six kinds of illegal,” Hanamura said. “Do you want to get her and all of them arrested? What’re you learning at police academy, anyways?”

“Oh. Right.” She laughed sheepishly.

“You can totally count me in!” Ann said. “This girl needs a vacation like you wouldn’t believe. Living a double life is _exhausting._ ”

“If we need a break from changing hearts, we know where to go,” Ren said. He carefully sipped the last of his coffee, stood, and ran a hand through his hair. Ann felt a faint twinge of jealousy. It just wasn’t fair for a guy to have hair _that_ good. Thank god none of the girls had black hair. How would they have been able to stand it otherwise?

Ren peered around behind his chair. “Futaba and I should be getting back before Sojiro starts to worry,” he said. “Thank you for the coffee, and for the help.”

“That’s right!” Futaba said. She scrabbled out from beneath the chair. “You promised him you’d have me back by ten! He’ll be mad!”

“Tell him you met Risette!” Kujikawa said with a another one of her conspiratorial wink-and-grin combinations. She had the poise of, well, a superstar. Would it be wrong if Ann used that email to ask her for photoshoot tips?

Futaba considered it, then shrugged. “Meh.”

Kujikawa pouted. “Aw, c’mon!” she said. “I can get you tickets!”

“Hah! You think I’d sell out that easily?”

Ren adjusted his glasses.

“I’ll take the tickets,” he said, his expression inscrutable.

“Don’t turn on your party members, you backstabber!”

“Deal, but she has to go too. Don’t think I won’t know if she doesn’t. I’m the navigator, after all!” She giggled.

“Leave her to me,” Ren said. “Let’s go, Futaba. We can argue about it on the train ride home.”

With a clatter of mugs and saucers, Ann and the other Thieves joined Joker and Futaba at the door.

“Don’t be strangers, okay?” Satonaka said. “If you need help, you better let us know!”

“If you need any paperwork filed, I’m your guy,” Hanamura said. “But seriously, watch your backs.”

“And come to my concert!” Kujikawa said. She struck another pose. “If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll have them arrested!”

Ann giggled. The bubbliness would probably drive some people nuts, but she found the enthusiasm infectious. It still seemed slightly unbelievable that a celebrity whose music she had on her phone could be part of this bizarre world of the paranormal.

“I’ll, I mean, we’ll be there for sure,” Ryuji said, nodding eagerly. Murmuring their thanks and goodbyes, the Thieves filed out the door, led by Ren. An was the last in line. She twisted back.

“I don’t think I ever said thanks for showing up to save us like that. So, thanks!” she said with a smile. “You guys are like superheroes. We won’t forget this.”

“We’re just some guys,” Hanamura said. “Well, not Ms. Celebrity here, but you should see the rest of us. You’re the ones making a difference.” He inclined his head in a gentle nod. “Keep it up.”

“I won’t let anybody stop me,” Ann said.

“Hey, Ann, hurry up!” Ryuji yelled from down the hallway. “We’re gonna hafta stop Futaba from deleting our families’ bank accounts if we make her miss this train!”

“I’ll see you at that concert!” Ann said, and swung the door shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This constitutes the final full chapter, with a chatroom epilogue soon to follow. Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this, and can only hope that it's been a fun read as well.


	12. Epilogue - Chatroom

 

\- - - Taro Tanaka has joined the chat - - -

\- - - Setton has joined the chat - - -

\- - - Kanra has joined the chat - - -

[Taro Tanaka]: Oh, there you are, Kanra. What happened?

[Setton]: You’ve never been gone this long before. Is everything all right?

[Kanra]: Perhaps you could say that it isn’t. Or, maybe, you could say that it hasn’t been for a long time.

[Setton]: I’m sorry, I don’t follow. What are you saying? Do you need help?

[Kanra]: Don’t worry about me. I’d say I don’t deserve it, but then you’d just worry more. So, I’ll say this instead. I’ll be leaving the chatroom for a while.

[Taro Tanaka]: Leaving?! But you’re the admin!

[Setton]: You’re sure?

[Kanra]: Don’t worry, Taro. I’ll be turning my admin powers over to Setton, so the chatroom will stay open. It’s just some time for me to think, and someone like me has quite a bit to think about.

[Taro Tanaka]: Okay, if you’re sure. But I wish you’d reconsider.

[Setton]: Admin?! Me?

[Kanra]: You’re on your phone all day anyways, Setton. It’s a natural fit. I sent you a private message with the info you’ll need.

[Setton]: This is way too sudden!

[Taro Tanaka]: You’ll do great, Setton.

[Kanra]: Listen to Taro. I’ll be going now. See you two around sometime.

\- - Kanra has left the chat. - -

[Setton]: It sounds like Kanra has something serious to deal with. I hope they’re all right. But me, admin? How do these commands even work?

[Taro Tanaka]: You’ve got my full support! Don’t ban me by mistake!

[Setton]: Oh, is that possible? Oh no…

\- - Alibaba has joined the chat. - -

[Alibaba]: Awwww, he’s gone already? Booooo! Where’s the fun in that?

[Setton]: You’re back?

[Taro Tanaka]: I thought Kanra banned you?

[Alibaba]: Hah! Don’t make me laugh. Too late, just did!

\- - Bakyura has joined the chat - -

[Bakyura]: ‘Sup, dudes?

\- - Bakyura WAS BANNED FROM THE CHAT - -

[Taro Tanaka]: Setton? Did you ban him instead of Alibaba by mistake?

[Setton]: I didn’t even touch my keyboard, I swear! Kanra…

[Alibaba]: Struck down in a single blow! Tremble before your new overlord, or you’ll be next!

[Taro Tanaka]: You’re one persistent troll…

[Alibaba]: Relax, it’s only a temporary ban. Anyways, don’t join chatrooms run by weird guys who pretend to be girls, you sicko.

[Setton]: Huh?

[Alibaba]: Beam me up!

\- - Alibaba has left the chat - -

[Setton]: Maybe I’ll take a break too…

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist thinking about a P4xP5 crossover, and since the games that'll give us that seem to be a while away yet, I ended up writing this story to stop the thoughts from rattling around in my head. It seemed clear to me that the meeting had to be mid-heist, but inserting the IT into any of the existing Palaces would seriously disrupt the character dynamics, so why not a new target? After that, I simply couldn't resist tossing in Durarara to add some extra chaos to the mix.
> 
> On to some logistical notes. I've necessarily had to shift Durarara's timeline about a bit in order to coincide it with the timeline of Persona 5. This story takes place in August of P5's timeline, after Futaba's recruitment and the beach trip. The Durarara characters exist in a nebulously-defined spot in the midst of S2 following Celty's meeting with Ruri. Sorry, Haru fans! I love her as much as you do, but I didn't want to set the story any later than August, due to the turn for the dramatic that P5 experiences beginning in September.
> 
> All Personas appear as their original incarnations. This is partly a concession to Arena & DAN, which do the same, and partly a fit of authorial pique, as I almost always find the originals the coolest; it should not be taken to indicate that the characters did not/will not complete their full story arcs as depicted in their games.
> 
> The story is complete, and will be posted one chapter at a time over the coming days. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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